Book./2 r^7 



I 



PERSONAL ADVENTURES 

i f !TH 5 

AND 



TRAVELS 

OF 

FOUR YEARS AND A HALF 

•a *i 

IN THE ' 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



By MR. JOHN DA VIS. 

BEING TRAVELS IN SEARCH OF INDEPENDENCE AND 
SETTLEMENT. 



Inveni Portum. 



\ 



LONDON: 

Printed by W. M'Dowall, Pemberton Row, Gough Square, Fleet Street. 

FOK J, DAVIS, MILITARY CHRONICLE OFFICE, 14, CHARLOTTE STREET, BLOOMSBURY) 
AND TO BE HAD OF THE BOOKSELLERS. 

1817. 



14149 




TRAVELS, &c 



Voyage from Bristol to New York, 

HAVING formed the resolution of visiting the United States, 
I repaired from Salisbury to Bristol, with a view of embarking 
on board a snow of two hundred tons, which lay at the quay, and 
was bound to New York. The captain had purposed to sail the 
20th of the same month, but it was not before January 7th of the 
new year, that the vessel moved from the wharf, when the spring- 
tide enabled her to proceed down the river. 

For my passage, which was in the steerage, I had paid seven 
guineas to the merchants who chartered the vessel, and my mess, 
which was with two young gentlemen of my acquaintance, cost 
me only three pounds more. But, with this money, besides pro- 
visions, we purchased a stove, which, during the voyage, was a 
treasure to us. It not only fortified us against the cold, but we 
cooked our victuals upon it ; and the drawer which was designed 
to hold the ashes, made an admirable oven. 

The cabin was by no means an enviable place. It offered nei- 
ther accommodation nor society. Its passengers consisted of an 
Unitarian priest and family, and two itinerant merchants. The 
steerage group was composed of a good, jolly,, Somersetshire 
farmer and his housekeeper, who were going to settle in Penn- 
sylvania, of the two young gentlemen I have already mentioned, 
and myself. Having repeatedly crossed the equator, and doubled 
the Cape of Good Hope, there is no occasion for me to say, that- 
the ocean was familiar to me ; and that, while the other passen- 
gers were sick and dejected, I was in health and good spirits. To 
the roll of the vessel I was fully accustomed ; but my companions 
not having gotten their sea legs on board, tumbled grievously 
about the decks. The library which I had brought with me, con- 



4 



TRAVELS^ &C. 



sisted of nearly three hundred volumes, and would have endeared 
me to any place. 

The Two Brothers was a miserably sailing tub, and her passage 
a most tedious one. Head winds constantly prevailed, and 
scarcely a week elapsed without our lying- to more than once. 
To scud her was impracticable, as she would not steer small, and 
several times the captain thought she was going to founder. Her 
cargo, which consisted of mill-stones and old iron, made her 
strain so with rolling, that incessant pumping could hardly keep 
her free. She seemed to be fitted out by the parish ; there was 
not a rope on board strong enough to hang a cat with. She had 
only one suit of sails, not a single spar, and her cordage was old. 
If a sail was split by the wind, there was no other alternative 
but to mend it ; and when, after being out six weeks, we had 
sprung our fore-top mast, we were compelled to reef it. The 
same day, I remember, we fell in with a schooner from New 
York, which we spoke. It was on the 18th of February. She 
was bound to St. Sebastian. The seamen being employed, I vo- 
lunteered my services to pull an oar on board her, which were 
readily accepted. Her captain received us politely, and regaled 
us with some cider. She had left port only a fortnight ; but it 
took the ill-fated Two Brothers a month to get thither. We 
parted with regret. The captain of her was of a social, friendly 
disposition. As to our own skipper, he was passionately fond of 
visiting every vessel that he saw on the passage. If an old salt- 
fish schooner hove in sight, he clamoured for his boarding-boots, 
and swore he would go to her if it were only to obtain a pint of 
molasses. Once, having hailed a vessel, he was justly rebuked. 
He told the captain of her he would hoist out his boat and go to 
see him ; but the man not approving, I suppose, his physiog- 
nomy, hauled aft his sheets and bore round up before the wind. 
The skipper had contracted these habits during the American 
war, when he commanded a small privateer; and he could not in 
his old age reclaim the foibles of his youth. 

On the 8th of March, we saw the Isles of Sile, and three days 
after weathered the breakers of Nantucket; from whence, coast- 
ing to the southward, we made Long Island, and ran up to Sandy 
Hook. The wind subsiding, we let go our anchor, and the next 
morning, at an early hour, I accompanied the captain and two of 
the cabin passengers on shore. It was Sunday, March 18th. 

On the parched spot, very properly called Sandy Hook, we 
found only one human habitation, which was a public house. 
The family consisted of an old woman, wife to the landlord, two 
young girls of homely appearance, a negro man and boy. While 



IN AMERICA* 



5 



breakfast was preparing, I ascended, with my companions, the 
light-house, which stood on the point of the Hook. It was lofty, 
and well furnished with lamps. On viewing -the land round the 
dwelling of our host, I could not help thinking that he might 
justly exclaim with Selkirk : 

I'm monarch of all I survey, 

My right, there is none to dispute, 
From the centre all round to the sea, 
I am lord of the fowl arid the brute. 

The morning passed away not unpleasantly. The vivacity of 
the captain enlivened our breakfast, which was prolonged nearly 
till noon 5 nor do I think we should have then risen from table, 
had not the mate, who was left in charge of the snow, like a good 
seaman, hove short, and loosened his sails in readiness to avail 
himself of the breeze which had sprung up in our favour. The 
captain, therefore, clamoured for the bill, and finished his last 
bowl of grog with the favourite toast of u Here's to the wind 
that blows, the ship that goes, and the lass that loves a sailor." 

In our progress to the town, we passed a British frigate lying 
at anchor. It was sunset, and the roll of the spirit-stirring drum 
brought to my recollection those scenes, that pomp, pride, and 
circumstance of glorious war, that makes ambition virtue*. We 
moored our vessel to one of the wharfs, and I rejoiced to find 
myself on a kindred shore. 



CHAP. I. 

Pursuits at Neiv- York. Interview with Mr, Burr. A walk t& 
Philadelphia. A Tribute to James Logan. Yellow Fever 
desolating the City. Embark for South- Carolina. 

UPON my landing at New- York, my first care was to deliver a 
letter of recommendation which I had been favoured with by a 
friend to a merchant in the city. I was now to become the ar- 
chitect of my own fortune. Though on a kindred shore, I had 
not even an acquaintance to whom I could communicate my pro- 
jects. But I was not long depressed by melancholy reflections, 
for I found a friend in a man, who, having himself been unfortu- 
nate, could feel for another in adversity. This was Mr. Caritat, 
the bookseller, who inquired into my views, and promised to 

* Shakespeare. 



6 



TRAVELS 5 &C. 



assist me ; and until he could do it effectually, that I might lose 
no time, gave me an immediate literary employment, in the trans- 
lation of Bonaparte's Italian campaign. " It is a pity," said he, 
* f that in this money-making country you should lose any time ; 
I have just imported this book, I will pay you two hundred dol- 
lars for its translation." 

I procured a lodging with a young man, who called himself a 
physician, in Ferry-street, a melancholy alley impervious to the 
sun. Doctor de Bow, however, in huge gilt letters, adorned the 
entrance of the house. Of the medical skill of the doctor I cannot 
pretend to judge ; but he had little or no practice. He was a 
pleasant man, and read the Life of Don Quixote whilst I was 
toiling at my translation. The original was an octavo of four 
hundred pages, but the emolument was a powerful incentive to 
my literary industry ; and I prosecuted my translation with so 
much diligence, that on the fourth of June it was ushered into 
the literary world. 

About this period, my friend the doctor relinquished his house, 
and rented a little medicinal shop of a Major Howe, who was 
agreeably situated in Cherry-street. As the major took boarders, 
I accompanied the doctor to his house, determined to eat, drink, 
and be merry over my two hundred dollars. With some of the 
well-stamped coin I purchased a few dozen of Madeira, and when 
the noontide heat had abated, I quaffed the delicious liquor with 
the major and the doctor under a tree in the garden. Major 
Howe, after carrying arms through the revolutionary war, in- 
stead of reposing upon the laurels he had acquired, was compel- 
led to open a boarding-house in New York, for the maintenance of 
his wife and children. He was a member of the Cincinnati, and 
not a little proud of his eagle. But I thought the motto to his 
badge of " Omnia reliquit servare Reropublicam," was not very 
appropriate ; for it is notorious that few Americans had much to 
leave when they accepted commissions in the army. " Victor ad 
aratrum redit" would have been better. 

My translation introduced me to the acquaintance of some dis- 
tinguished characters in New-York, and among others, to the 
celebrated Colonel Burr, who was in the late election chosen for 
the office of vice-president of the United S f ates. I found Mr. 
Burr at breakfast, reading my translation over his coffee. He 
received me with the civility of a well-bred man ; and I disco- 
vered that he was not less skilled in elegant literature, than in 
the science of graciousness and attraction. He introduced me to 
his daughter, whom he has educated with uncommon care. At 
the same time that she dances with more grace than any young 



IN AMERICA. 



7 



lady of New-York, Miss Theodosia Burr speaks French and Ita- 
lian with facility, is perfectly conversant with the writers of the 
Augustan age, and not unacquainted with the language of the 
father of poetry. Martei, a Frenchman, has dedicated a volume 
of his productions to Miss Burr, with the Horatian epithet of 
ce dulce decus." 

My occupations at New- York, however agreeable, did not re- 
press my desire to explore the continent before me ; and I 
thought it best to travel while I had some crowns left in my 
purse. I felt regret at the thought of separating from the doctor, 
whom I was attached to from habit; but the doctor soon relieved 
me by saying, he would accompany me whithersoever I went ; 
that no man loved travelling better than he, and that he would 
convert his medicines into money, to defray his expenses on the 
road. 

But tell me, said the doctor, are you fond of walking? I as- 
sured him no person could be more so. Then, resumed he, let us 
each provide ourselves with a good cudgel, and begin our journey 
on foot. I will put a case of instruments into my pocket, and 
you can slip into your's the campaign of Buonaparte in Italy. 

But whither, replied 1, do you propose to go ; and what, I be- 
seech you is the object of your travelling ? To see the world, 
assuredly, said he ; to eat, drink, and laugh away care on the 
road. How, doctor, said I, would you approve of a walk to Phi- 
ladelphia ? I should like it of all things, said the doctor. In our 
way to it, we should go through the place of my birth; you have 
heard, I guess, of Hackinsac ; and at Philadelphia I could get 
somebody to introduce me to the great Dr. Rush. All we have 
to do is, to send on our trunks in the coach, and trudge after 
them on foot. 

Our resolution was no sooner taken than executed. The doc- 
tor got an apothecary, who lived opposite, to purchase what few 
drugs were contained in his painted drawers ; and having dis- 
patched our trunks forward by the coach, we began our journey 
to Philadelphia. 

Having crossed the Hudson, which separates York-Island from 
the shore of the Jerseys, we were landed at a tavern* delightfully 
situated on the bank of the river. The doctor having once re- 
duced a fractured leg for the landlord, proposed dining at the 
tavern : he will certainly charge us nothing, said he, for I once 
reduced his leg, when the tibia and fibula were both badly frac- 
tured. It was a nice case, and I will put him in mind of it. 

* Every public-house in the United States, however contemptible, is di^niiied by 
the name of Tavern. 



6 



TRAVELS, &C. 



But you charged him ! Doctor ! did you not, said I. No mat- 
ter for that, replied he. I should have been expelled from the 
college of whigs, had I not put in my' claim, 

I represented to the doctor that no man who respected himself 
would become an eleemosynary guest at the table of another, 
when he had money to defray his wants. That to remind ano- 
ther of past services, discovered a want of humanity ; and that a 
mean action, though it may not torment the mind at the moment 
it was done, never fails afterwards to bring compunction : for the 
remembrance of it will present itself like a spectre to the ima- 
gination. 

The landlord of the tavern was a portly man, who in the mid- 
dle of the day was dressed in a loose night-gown and mocossins*; 
he recognized the doctor, whom he shook heartily by the hand, 
and turning to a man in company said, " they may talk of Dr. 
Rush, or Dr. Mitchell, but 1 maintain Dr. De Bow is the greatest 
doctor of them all." 

It was difficult to refrain from laughing aloud ; but the speech 
of the landlord inspired the doctor with very different emotions : 
he made an inclination of his head, adjusted his spectacles, and 
assumed a profound look that assented to the justness of the re- 
mark. 

What, gentlemen, said the landlord, would you chuse for your 
dinner ? It is now the hottest part of the day, and if you are walk- 
ing to Newark, you will find the evening more pleasant. How 
comes on trade, doctor, at New-York ? I warrant you have got 
your share. 

Why, Mr. Clinch, replied the doctor, I cannot complain. There 
have been several cases of fever to which I was called. And the 
patients were right, said Mr. Clinch, for they could not have 
eal ed a better doctor had they sent over the four quarters of the 
globe for him. Well, it is true, God sends this country fevers, 
but be also sends us doctors who are able to cure them. It is 
like the State I was born in : Virginia is infested with snakes, but 
it abounds with roots to cure their bite. Come walk in, gentle- 
men, walk in. I will get dinner ready directly. 

Our dinner was a miserable one ; but the landlord seasoned his 
dishes with flattery, and the doctor found it very palatable. We 
went forward in the cool; nor did my friend hesitate to pay his 
club towards two dollars for our repast : it was high, the doctor 
whispered, but continued he, when a man's consequence is known 
at a tavern, it always inflames the bill. 

It was our original design to have gone through Hackinsac, a 

* Mocossins are Indian, shoes, made of deer-skin, 



IN AMERICA. 



9 



little village that claimed the honour of my companion's nativity; 
but it was getting late, the road to it was circuitous, and we wish- 
ed much that night to travel to Elizabeth Town. The doctor 
consoled himself for not visiting his family, by observing, that no 
man was a prophet at home. 

We did not long stop at Newark, but prosecuted our walk, after 
taking shelter from a shower of rain in one of its sylvan habita- 
tions. The sun, which had been obscured, again gladdened the 
plains; and the birds which had ceased awhile singing, again 
renewed their harmony. 

We reached Elizabeth Town a little while after the stage-coach. 
My companion being somewhat fatigued, retired early to bed, 
but I devoted great part of the night to the refined pleasures of 
reading and reflection. There is no life so unsettled but a lover 
of reading will find leisure for the acquisition of knowledge, an 
acquisition that depends not on either seasons or place." 

When I went to bed there was little sleep to be obtained ; for a 
huge mastiff in the yard, notwithstanding the doctor put his head 
out of the window and vociferated to him repeatedly, did not 
remit barking the whole of the night. We therefore rose without 
being called, and pursued our journey to Prince-town, a place 
more famous for its college than its learning. 

The road from Prince Town to Trenton offers little matter for 
speculation. I know that in some places there were battles 
fought between the British and their revolted colonists ; but the 
recollection of it tends to no use, and, I am sure, it cannot be 
pleasing. 

At Trenton, the doctor who was afflicted with sore eyes, de- 
clined proceeding any farther. It was to no purpose that I ex- 
postulated with him on the folly of his conduct, and urged that 
we had not many more miles to travel. The son of Paracelsus 
was inexorable, and it only remained for me to perform the last 
office of friendship, which was to tie a bandage over his eyes, and 
lead him blindfolded to his room ; in our way to which, happen- 
ing to stumble, the doctor comically enough observed, 66 When 
the blind leads the blind, they shall both of them fall." 

From Trenton I was conveyed over the Delaware in the 
ferry-boat, and walked about a mile along ths bank, when 
the coach to Philadelphia overtook me. Finding the road dusty, 
I complied with the invitation of the driver to get into the 
vehicle. At Bristol we took up two young women, clad in the 
habit of quakers, whom I soon, however, discovered to be girls of 
the town; and who, under pretence of shewing me a letter, dis- 
covered their address. 

9 



m 



TRAVELS, &C; 



A spacious road conducted us to Philadelphia, which we enter- 
ed at Front-street. I had expected to be charmed with its ani- 
mation, but a melancholy silence prevailed in the streets, the 
principal houses were abandoned, and none but French people 
were to be found seeking pleasure in society. 

The coach stopped at the sign of the Sorrell-horse, in Second- 
street, where I heard only lamentations over the yellow-fever, 
which had displayed itself in Water-street, and was spreading its 
contagion. 

It costs no more to go to a good tavern than a bad one ; and I 
removed my trunks, which I found at the stage-office, to the 
French hotel in the same street. Mr. Pecquet received me with 
a bowing mien, and called Jeannette for the passe-partout to 
shew me his apartments. He exercised all his eloquence to make 
me lodge in his hotel. He observed, that his house was not like 
an American house; that he did not in summer put twelve beds 
in one room ; but that every lodger had a room to himself, and, 
Monsieur, added he very solemnly, " Ici il ne sera pas necessaire 
de sortir de votre lit, comme chez les Americains, pour aller a la 
fenetre, car Jeannette n'oublie jamais de mettre un pot de cham- 
bre sous le lit." 

Monsieur Pecquet assured me his dinners— were of a superior 
kind, and finding 1 was an Englishman, observed with a bow, 
that he could furnish me with the best porter brewed in the city 
of Philadelphia. 

Such professions as these, what unhoused traveller could resist ? 
I commended Monsieur Pecquet on his mode of living, recipro- 
crated compliments with him, chose the chamber I thought the 
coolest, and the same night found myself at supper with a dozen 
French ladies and gentlemen, who could not utter a word of 
English, and with whom I drank copious libations of that porter 
which my host had enlarged upon with such elegance of declama- 
tion. 

My first visit was to the library. A bust of Dr. Franklin stands 
over the door, whose head it is to be lamented, the librarian can- 
not place on his own shoulders. Of the two rooms, the Frank- 
linian library is confined to books in the English language, but 
the Loganian library comprehends every classical work in the 
ancient and modern languages. I contemplated with reverence 
the portrait of James Logan, which graces the room. I could 
not repress my exclamations. As I am only a stranger, said I, 
in this country, I atFect no enthusiasm on beholding the statues 
of her generals and statesmen. I have left a church filled with 
them on the shore of Albion that have a prior claim to such feel- 



IN AMERICA. 



11 



ing. But I here behold the portrait of a man whom I consider so 
great a benefactor to literature, that he is scarcely less illustrious 
than its munificent patrons of Italy ; his soul has certainly been 
admitted to the company of the congenial spirits of a Cosmo, and 
Lorenzo of Medicis. The Greek and Roman authors, forgotten on 
their native banks of the Ilyssus and Tiber, delight, by the kind- 
ness of a Logan, the votaries to learning on those of the Delaware, 

James Logan was born in Scotland, about the year 1674. He 
was one of the people called quakers, and accompanied William 
Penn in his last voyage to Pennsylvania. For many years of his 
life he was employed in public business, and rose to the offices of 
chief-justice and governor of the province; but he felt always an 
ardour of study, and by husbanding his leisure, found time to 
write several treatises in Latin, of which one, on the Generation 
of Plants, was translated into English by Dr. Fothergill. 

Being " declined in the vale of years," Mr. Logan "withdrew 
from the tumult of public business, to the solitude of his country- 
seat, near German-town, where he found tranquillity among his 
books, and corresponded with the most distinguished literary 
characters of Europe. He also made a version of Cicero de Se- 
nectute, which was published with notes by the late Dr. Frank- 
lin. Whether Franklin was qualified to write annotations on 
Tully's noble treatise, will admit of some doubt; for the genius 
of Franklin was rather scientific than classical. 

Mr. Logan died in 1751, at the venerable age of seventy-seven; 
leaving his library, which he had been fifty years collecting, to 
the people of Pennsylvania; a monument of his ardour for the 
promotion of literature *. 

It was at this library that during three successive afternoons I 
enjoyed that calm and pure delight which books afford. But on 
the fourth 1 found access denied, and that the librarian had fled 

* The following extract from Mr. Logan's will, cannot fail to interest the curious ic 
literature, 

" [n my library, which I have left to the city of Philadelphia, for the advancement 
and facilitating of classical learning, are above 100 volumes of authors in folio, all in 
Greek, with mostly their versions. All the Roman Classics without exception. All 
the whole Greek mathematicians, viz. Archimedes, Euclid, Ptolemy, both his Geogra- 
phy and Almagest, which I had in Greek (with Theon's Commentary, in folio, above 
700 pages) fri»m my learned friend Fabricius, who published fourteen volumes of his 
Bibliotheque Grecque in quarto, in which, after he had finished his account of Ptolemy, 
on my inquiring of him at Hamburgh in 1772, how I should find it, having long sought 
for it in vain in England ; he sent it me out of his own library, telling me it was so 
scarce, that neither prayers nor price could purchase it: besides, there are many of the 
most valuable Latin authors, and a great number of modern mathematicians, with aji 
the thiee editions of Newton, Dr. Wallis, Halley, &c. 

" James Logan." 



12 



TRAVELS, &C. 



from the yellow fever, which bred consternation through the city. 

Of the fever I may say, that it momentarily became more de- 
structive. Sorrow sat on every brow, and nothing was to be 
seen but coffins carried through the streets unattended by 
mourners. Indeed it was not a time to practise modes of sorrow, 
or adjust the funeral rites ; bat the multitude thought only of 
escaping from the pestilence that wasted at noon-day, and walk- 
ed in darkness. 

This was a period to reflect on the vanity of human life, and the 
mutability of human affairs. Philadelphia, which in the spring 
was a scene of mirth and riot, was in the summer converted to a 
sepulchre for the inhabitants. The courts of law were shut, and 
no subtile lawyer could obtain a client; the door of the tavern 
was closed, and the drunkard was without strength to lift the 
bowl to his lips : no theatre invited the idle to behold the mimic 
monarch strut his hour upon the stage; the dice lay neglected on 
the gaming-table, nor did the dancing-room re-echo with the 
steps of the dancer : man was now humbled ! Death was whett- 
ing his arrows, and the graves were open. All jollity was fled. 
The hospital cart moved slowly on where the chariot before had 
rolled its rapid wheels ; and the coffin makers were either nailing 
up the coffins of the dead, or giving dreadful note of preparation 
by framing others for the dying, where lately the mind at ease 
had poured forth its tranquillity in songs; where the loud laugh 
had reverbe rated, and where the animating sound of music had 
stolen on the ear — In this scene of consternation, the negroes 
were the only people who could be prevailed on to assist the 
dying, and inter those who were no more. Their motive was ob- 
vious ; they plundered the dead of their eiFects, and adorned 
themselves in the spoils of the camp of the king of terrors. It 
was remarked to me by a lady of Philadelphia, that the negroes 
were never so well ciad as after the yellow fever. 

I had been a week at Philadelphia, without hearing any tidings 
of my friend the doctor, when walking one evening past the 
Franklin 's-head, I recognised him conversing with a stranger 
in the front room. The physician had arrived only that even- 
ing. He had staid six days at Trenton, leading a pleasant, con- 
valescent life ; from whence he had written me a letter, which I 
found afterwards at the post-office. We were rejoiced to meet 
each other, and the better to exchange minds, I accompanied the 
doctor into Arch-street, where taking possession of the porch of 
an abandoned dwelling, we sat conversing till a late hour. The 
most gloomy imagination cannot conceive a scene more dismal 
than the street before us : every house was deserted by those who 



IN AMERICA. 



13 



had strength to seek a less baneful atmosphere ; unless where 
parental fondness prevailed over self-love. Nothing was heard 
but either the groans of the dying, the lamentations of the sur- 
vivors, the hammers of the coffin-makers, or the howling of the 
domestic animals, which those who fled from the pestilence had 
left behind, in the precipitancy of their flight. A poor cat came 
to the porch where I was sitting with the doctor, and demon- 
strated her joy by the caresses of fondness. An old negro-woman 
was passing at the same moment with some pepper-pot* on her 
head. With this we fed the cat that was nearly reduced to a ske- 
leton ; and prompted by a desire to know the sentiments of the 
old negro-woman, we asked her the news. God help us, cried 
the poor creature, very bad news. Buckra die in heaps. By and 
bye nobody live to buy pepper-pot, and old black woman die too. 

Finding all business suspended at Philadelphia, and the atmos- 
phere becoming hourly more noisome, we judged it prudent to 
leave the city without delay ; and finding a vessel at the wnarfs 
ready to sale for Charleston, in South Carolina, we agreed for the 
passage, and put our luggage on board. 

Having taken leave of Monsieur Pecquet, whose excellent din- 
ners had enhanced him in the opinion of the doctor, we on the 
22d of September, 179b, went on board, and bade adieu to Phila- 
delphia, which was become a Golgotha. 

The vessel having hauled out into the stream, we weighed with 
a fair wind, and shaped our course down the serpentine, but 
beautiful river of the Delaware. Our cabin was elegant, and the 
fare delicious. I observed the doctor's eyes brighten at the first 
dinner we made on board, who expressed to me a hope that we 
might be a month on the passage, as he wished to eat out the 
money the captain had charged him. 

The first night the man at the helm fell asleep, and the tide 
hove the vessel into a corn-field, opposite Wilmington ; so that 
when we went upon deck in the morning, we found our situation 
quite pastoral. We floated again with the flood-tide, and at noon 
let go our anchor before Newcastle. 

It took us two days to clear the Capes. The banks of the De- 
laware had been extolled to me as the most beautiful in the 
world ; but I thought them inferior to those of the Thames. 

We were now at sea, bounding on the waves of the Atlantic. 
Of our passengers, the most agreeable was an old French gentle- 
man from St. Domingo. Monsieur Lartigue, to the most perfect 
good-breeding, joined great knowledge of mankind, and at the 
age of sixty had lost none of his natural gaiety. It was impossi- 

* Tripe seasoned with pepper. 



14 



TRAVELS, &C 



ble to be dejected in the company of such a man. If any person 
sung on board, he would immediately begin capering ; and when 
the rest were silent, he never failed to sing himself. 

Nothing very remarkable happened in our passage, unless it be 
worthy of record, that one morning the captain suffered his fears 
to get the better of his reason, and mistook a Virginian sloop for 
a French privateer ; and another day the mate having caught a 
dolphin, Mr. Lartigue exclaimed, " II faut qu'il soit ragouti." 

After a passage of five days, we came to an anchor in Rebellion 
Roads, from which we could piainly discern the spires and houses 
of Charleston ; and the following day we stood towards Fort 
Johnson, which no vessels are suffered to pass without being ex- 
amined. 

Here the port physician came on board, with orders for us to 
perform quarantine a fortnight, to the great joy of the doctor, 
who had not yet eaten half of what he wished to eat on board. 
Monsieur Lartigue had abundantly stocked himself with comfi- 
tures and wine; and 1 doubt not but the doctor still remembers 
the poignancy of his preserved cherries, and the zest of his claret. 



CHAP. II. 

Projects at Charleston. The Enidition of a Professor. A New 
and desirable Acquaintance. College Toils. A Journey on 
foot from Charleston to Coosohatchie. 

I LANDED at Charleston with Dr. De Bow, who bad clad him- 
self in his black suit, and though a young man, wore a monstrous 
pair of spectacles on his nose. Adieu jollity ! adieu laughter ! 
the doctor was without an acquaintance on a strange shore, and 
he had no other friend but his solemnity to recommend him. It 
was to no purpose that I endeavoured to provoke him to laugh- 
ter by my remarks ; the physician would not even relax his risible 
muscles into a smile. 

The doctor was right. In a few days he contrived to hire part 
of a house in Union -street ; obtained credit for a considerable 
quantity of drugs 3 and only wanted a chariot to equal the best 
physician in Charleston. 

The doctor was in possession of a voluble tongue ; and I fur- 
nished him with a few Latin phrases, which he dealt out to his 
hearers with an air of profound learning. He generally concluded 
his speeches with " Nullius addictus jurare in verba magistri !** 



IN AMERICA. 



15 



Wishing for some daily pursuit, I advertised in one of the pa- 
pers for the place of tutor in a respectable family ; not omitting 
to observe, that the advertiser was the translator of " Buona- 
parte's Campaign in Italy." The editor of the Gazette assured 
me of an hundred applications ; and that early the next morning 
I should not be without some. His predictions were verified ; 
for the following day, on calling at the office, I found a note left 
from a planter, who lived a mile from the town, desiring me to 
visit him that afternoon at his house. I went thither accordingly ; 
but finding that the house and family, though in the first style of 
opulence, promised but little enjoyment, I declined the terms 
offered, and returned as I went. 

My walk back to Charleston was along the shore of the Atlan- 
tic, whose waves naturally associated the idea of a home I des- 
paired ever again to behold. Sorrow always begets in me a dis- 
position for poetry ; and the reflexions that obtruded themselves 
in my lonely walk, produced a little ode. 

ODE ON HOME. 
DEAR native soil ! where once my feet 

Were wont thy flow'ry paths to roam, 
And where my heart would joyful beat, 

From India's climes restor'd to home; 
Ah! shall I e'er behold you more, 

And cheer again a parent's eye ? 
A wand'rer from thy blissful shore, 

Thro' endless troubles doom'd to sigh ? 

Or shall I, pensive and forlorn, 

Of penury be yet the prey, 
Long from thy grateful bosom lorn, 

Without a friend to guide my wav * 
Hard is the hapless wand'rer's fate. 

Tho' blest with magic power of song; 
Successive woes his steps await, 

Unheeded by the worldly throng. 

It was not long before my advertisement brought me other ap- 
plications. The principal of Charleston-college honoured me 
with a letter, desiring me to wait on him at his house. 

I found Mr. Drone in his study, consulting with great solemnity 
a ponderous lexicon. And, to be brief, he engaged me as an 
assistant to his college for three months. 

I was about to take leave, when the principal tutor entered the 
room, to whom he introduced me. Mr. George taught the Greek 
and Latin classics at the college, and was not less distinguished 
by his genius than his erudition. On surveying my new acquaint- 
ance, I could not but think that he deserved a better office than 



16 



TRAVELS, &C. 



that of a Gerund-grinder. Nature seemed to have set her seal 
on him to give the world assurance of a man. On our further 
acquaintance, he laughed at the starch gravity of the professor. 
Peace, said he, to all such ! Old DufFey, my first school-master in 
Roscommon, concealed more learning under the coarseness of his 
brogue, than this man will ever display with all his declamation. 

Two young men, of similar pursuits, soon become acquainted. 
The day of my introduction to Mr. George, we exchanged thoughts 
without restraint; and during three months that 1 continued at 
Charleston, we were inseparable companions. In six weeks, 
however, I grew thoroughly weary of my new office. The pro- 
fessor complained that 1 was always last in the college ; and I 
^replied, by desiring my discharge. 

I was now dismissed from the college; but I was under no 
solicitude for my future life. A planter of the name of Brisbane, 
had politely invited me to his plantation, to partake with him and 
his neighbours, the diversion of hunting during the winter : and 
another of the name of Drayton, the owner of immense forests, 
had applied to me to live in his family, and undertake the tuition 
of his children. Of these proposals, the first flattered my love of 
ease, but the other seemed most lucrative. I was not long held 
in suspense which of the two to choose ; but I preferred profit to 
pleasure. 

The winters of Carolina, however piercing to a native, who 
during the summer months may be said to bask rather than 
breathe, are mild to an Englishman accustomed to the frosts of 
his island. In the month of November, my engagement led me 
to Coosohatchie, an insignificant village about seventy-eight 
miles from Charleston ; for the plantation of Mr. Drayton was in 
the neighbouring woods. The serenity of the weather invited 
the traveller to walk, and, at an early hour of the morning, I 
departed on foot from Charleston, having the preceding evening 
taken leave of Mr. George. 

The foot-traveller need not be ashamed of his mode of jour- 
neying. To travel on foot, is to travel like Plato and Pythagoras ; 
and to these examples may be added the not less illustrious ones 
of Goldsmith and Rousseau. The rambles of the antient sages 
are at this distance of time uncertain ; but it is well known that 
Goldsmith made the tour of Europe on foot, and that Rousseau 
walked, from choice, through a great part of Italy. 

An agreeable walk of ten miles, brought me to the bank of 
Ashley river, where I breakfasted in a decent public-house, with 
the landlord and his family. Having crossed the ferry, I resumed 
my journey through a country which was one continued forest. 



IN AMERICA. 



17 



Tall trees of pine, planted by the hand of nature in regular rows, 
bordered the road I travelled, and I saw no other animals, but 
now and then a flock of deer, which ceasing awhile to browse, 
looked up at me with symptoms of wonder rather than fear. 

" Along these lonely regions, here retir'd, 
From little scenes of art, great nature dwells 
In awful solitude, and nought is seen 
But the wild herds that own no master's stall." 

At three in the afternoon I reached Jackson-borough, the only 
town on the road from Charleston to Coosohatchie. Though a 
foot- traveller, I was received at the tavern with much respect ; 
the landlord ushered me into a room which afforded the largest 
fire I had ever seen in my travels: yet the landlord, rubbing his 
hands, complained it was cold, and exclaimed against his ne- 
groes for keeping so bad a fire. Here, Syphax, said he, be quick 
and bring more wood : you have made, you rascal, a Charleston 
fire : fetch a stout back-log, or I'll make a back-log of yon. 

The exclamations of the landlord brought his wife into the 
room. She curtsied, and made many eloquent apologies for the 
badness of the fire; but added, that her waiting man, Will, had 
run away, and having whipped Syphax till his back was raw, she 
was willing to try what gentle means would do. 

A dinner of venison, and a pint of Madeira, made me forget 
that I had walked thirty miles ; and it being little more than four 
o'clock, I proceeded forward on my journey. The vapours of a 
Spanish segar promoted thought, and 1 was lamenting the ine- 
quality of conditions in the world, when night overtook me. 

I now redoubled my pace, not without the apprehension that 
I should have to seek my lodgings in some tree, to avoid the 
beasts that prowled nightly in the woods ; but the moon, which 
rose to direct me in my path, alleviated my perturbation, and in 
another hour, I descried the blaze of a friendly fire through the 
casements of a log-house. Imaginary are worse than real cala- 
mities ; and the apprehension of sleeping in the woods, was by 
far more paiuful than the actual experience of it would have 
been. The same Being who sends trials, can also inspire forti- 
tude. 

The place 1 had reached was Asheepo, a hamlet consisting of 
three or more log-houses ; and the inhabitants of every sex and 
age had collected round a huge elephant, which was journeying 
with his master to Savannah. 

Fortune had therefore brought me into unexpected company, 
and I could not but admire the docility of the elephant, who in 
solemn majesty received the gifts of the children with his trunk,, 

© 



IS 



TRAVELS, &C. 



But not so the monkey. This man of Lord Monboddo was in- 
flamed with rage at the boys and girls ; nor could the rebukes of 
his master calm the transports of his fury. 

I entered the log-house which accommodated travellers. An 
old negro-man had squatted himself before the fire. Well, old 
man, said I, why don't you go out to look at the elephant ? Hie i 
Massa, he calf ! In fact, the elephant came from Asia, and the 
negro from Africa, where he had seen the same species of animal, 
but of much greater magnitude. 

Travelling, says Shakespeare, acquaints a man with strange 
bed-fellows ; and there being only one bed in the log-house, I 
slept that night with the elephant-driver. Mr. Owen was a na- 
tive of Wales, but he had been a great traveller, and carried a 

map of his travels in his pocket Nothing shortens a journey 

more than good company on the road ; so I departed after break- 
fast from Asheepo, with Mr. Owen, his elephant, and his monkey. 
Towards noon, however, I was left to journey alone. The ele- 
phant, however docile, would not travel without his dinner; and 
Mr. Owen halted under a pine-tree, to feed the mute companion 
of his toils. 

For my own part, 1 dined at a solitary log-house in the woods, 
upon exquisite venison. My host was a small planter, who cul- 
tivated a little rice, and maintained a wife and four children with 
his rifled-barrel gun. He had been overseer to a Col. Fishborne, 
and owned half a dozen negroes ; but he observed to me " his 
property was running about at large/' for four of them had ab- 
sconded. 

As I purposed to make Pocotaligo the end of my day's journe}*', 
I walked forward at a moderate pace ; but towards evening, I was 
aroused from the reveries into which my walking had plunged 
me, by a conflagration in the woods. On either side of the road 
the trees were in flames, which extending to their branches, as- 
sumed an appearance both terrific and grotesque. Through these 
woods, " belching flames and rolling smoke," I had to travel 
nearly a mile, when the sound of the negro's axe chopping of 
wood, announced that I was near Pocotaligo. 

At Pocotaligo I learned, that the conflagration in the woods 
arose from the carelessness of some back-wood men, who having 
neglected to extinguish their fires, the flames had extended in 
succession to the herbage and the trees. 

1 was somewhat surprised on entering the tavern at Pocotaligo, 
to behold sixteen or more chairs placed round a table which was 
covered with the choicest dishes \ but my surprise ceased, when 
the Savannah and Charleston stage-coaches stopped at the door. 



IN AMERICA. 



19 



and the passengers flocked to the fire before which I was sitting. 
In the Charleston coach came a party of comedians. Of these 
itinerant heroes, the greater part were my countrymen ; and as I 
was not travelling to see Englishmen, but Americans, I was not 
sorry when they retired to bed. 

I was in a worse condition at Pocotaligo than Asheepo ; for at 
Pocotaligo the beds were so small, that they would hold only re- 
spectively one person. But I pity the traveller who takes um- 
brage against America because its houses of entertainment cannot 
always accommodate him to his wishes. I seated myself in a 
nook of the chimney, called for wine and segars, and either at- 
tended to the conversation of the negro-girls who had spread their 
blankets on the floor, or entertained myself with the half-formed 
notions of the landlord and coachman, who had brought their 
chairs to the fire, and were disputing on politics. 

Early in the morning, I resumed my journey in the coach that 
was proceeding to Savannah ; 1 had but a short distance more to 
go ; for Coosohatchie is only ten miles from Pocotaligo. In jour- 
neying through America, the Indian names of places have always 
awakened in my breast a train of reflection ; a single word will 
speak volumes to a speculative mind ; and the names of Pocota- 
ligo, and Coosohatchie, and Occoquan, have pictured to my fancy 
the havoc of time, the decay and succession of generations, toge- 
ther with the final extirpation of savage nations, who, unconsci- 
ous of the existence of another people, dreamt not of invasions 
from foreign enemies. 

I was put down at the posUoffice of Coosohatchie. The post- 
master was risen, expecting the mail. He invited me to partake 
of a fire he had just kindled, before which a negro-boy was 
feeding a sickly infant, whom the man always addressed by the 
Homeric title of fc my son.'* 

I sat with the post-master an hour, when I sought out the 
village tavern, where with some trouble I knocked up a miserable 
negress, who, on my entrance, resumed her slumbers on an old 
rug spread before the embers of the kitchen fire, and snored in 
oblivion of all care. After all, I know not whether those whose 
condition wears the appearance of wretchedness, are not greater 
favourites of nature than the opulent. Nothing comes amiss to 
the slave, he will find repose on the flint, when sleep flies the eye- 
lids of his master on a bed of down. I seated myself in a nook 
of the chimney till day-light, when the landlord came down; and 
not long after, a servant was announced with horses, to conduct 
me to the house of Mr. Drayton. 

An hour's ride through a forest of stately pines, brought me 



20 



TRAVELS, &C. 



to the plantation, where I was received with much affability, by- 
Mr. Drayton and his lady, and where 1 was doomed to pass the 
winter in the woods of Carolina, 



CHAP. III. 

Memoir of my Life in the Woods of South Carolina. — Ocean 
Plantation. Poetry delightful in Solitude. Walks in the 
Woods. Family of Mr Drayton. Midnight Lucubrations. 
Sketches of Natural History. Deer-hunting. Remarks on 
Slaves and Slavery. Militia of Coosohatchie District. A 
School groupe. Journey into Georgia. 

DEEP in the bosom of a lofty wood, 
Near Coosohatchie'&slow revolving flood, 
Wht re the blithe mocking-bird repeats the lay 
Of all the choir that warble from the spraj? ; 
Where the soft fawn, and not less tim'rous hind, 
Beset by dogs, outstrip in speed the wind; 
Where the grim wolf, at silent close of day, 
With hunger bold, comes near the house for prey; 
Along the road, near yonder fields of corn, 
Where the soft dove resorts at early morn, 
There would my breast with love of nature glow, 
And oft my thoughts in tuneful numbers flow; 
While friendly George, by ev'ry muse belov'd, 
Smil'd his assent, and all my lays approv'd. 

About half-way on the road from Charleston to Savannah, is 
situated a little village called Coosohatchie, consisting of a black- 
smith's shop, a court-house, and a jail. A small river rolls its 
turbid water near the place, on whose dismal banks are to be 
found many vestiges of the Indians that once inhabited them ; 
and in the immeasurable forests of the neighbourhood, (compre- 
hended within the district of Coosohatchie), are several scattered 
plantations of cotton and of rice, whose stubborn soil the poor 
negro moistens with his tears, and 

Whose sore task 
Does not divide the Sunday from the week. 

It was on one of these plantations that I passed the winter of 
1798, and the spring of the following year. 

I lived in the family of Mr. Drayton, of whose children I had 
undertaken the tuition, and enjoyed every comfort that opulence 
could bestow. 

To form an idea of Ocean Plantation, let the reader picture to 



IN AMERICA. 



"21 



his imagination an avenue of several miles, leading from the Sa- 
vannah road, through a continued forest, to a wooden-house, 
encompassed by rice-grounds, corn and cotton- fields. On the 
right, a kitchen and other offices : on the left, a stable and coach- 
house : a little farther a row of negro-huts, a barn and yard : the 
view of the eye bounded by lofty woods of pine, oak, and hickory. 

The solitude of the woods I found at first rather dreary ; but 
the polite attention of an elegant family, a sparkling fire in my 
room every night, and a horse always at my command, recon- 
ciled me to my situation ; and my impulse to sacrifice to the 
muses, which had been repressed by a wandering life, was once 
more awakened by the scenery of the woods of Carolina. 

I indulged in the composition of lyric poetry, and when I had 
produced an ode, transmitted it to Freneau, at Charleston, who 
published it in his gazette. The following was one of my first 
productions. 

Horace, Book I. Ode 5. Imitated. 
*' Quis muita gracilis te puer in rosa, Sec." 
TO PYRRHA. 
What essene'd youth, on bed of blushing roses, 

Dissolves away within thy glowing arras? 
Or with soft languor on thy breast reposes, 

Deeply enamour'd of thy witching charms? 
For whom do now, with wantonness and care, 

Thy golden locks in graceful ringlets wave? 
What swain now listens to thy vows of air? 

For whom doth now thy fragrant bosom heave? 
Alas! how often shall he curse the hour, 

Who, all-confiding in thy winning wiles, 
With sudden darkness views the heavens lower, 

And finds, too late, the treach'ry of thy smiles ! 
Wretched are they, who, by thy beauty won, 

Believe thee not less amiable than kind: 
No more deluded, I thy charms disown. 

And give thy vows, indignant, to the wind. 

I now cultivated the lighter ode, and the time passed pleasant- 
ly as I sacrificed to the laurelled-god in the woods of Carolina. 
The common names of common towns, of Boston, New- York, 
and Philadelphia, awaken no curiosity, because every traveller has 
described them ; but Coosohatchie, which has scarce ever reached 
the ear of an European, appealed to my fancy, both from its Indian 
derivation, and the wildness of its situation. I therefore re- 
joiced at the chance which brought me to a new spot 5 and I 
envied not other travellers the magnificence of their cities. 

The country near Coosohatchie exhibited with the coming 
spring a new and enchanting prospect. The borders of the 



22 



TRAVELS j &C. 



forests were covered with the blossoms of the dog-wood, of which 
the white flowers caught the eye from every part ; and often was 
to be seen the red-bud tree, which purpled the adjacent woods 
with its luxuriant branches ; while, not unfrequently, shrubs of 
jessamine, intermixed with the woodbine, lined the road for se- 
veral miles. The feathered choir began to warble their strains, 
and from every tree was heard the song of the red-bird, of which 
the pauses were filled by the mocking-bird, who either imitated 
the note with exquisite precision, or poured forth a ravishing 
melody of its own. 

I commonly devoted my Sundays to the pleasure of exploring 
the country, and cheered by a serene sky, and smiling landscape, 
felt my breast awakened to the most rapturous sensations. I 
lifted my heart to that Supreme Being, whose agency is every 
where confessed ; and whom I traced in the verdure of the earth, 
the foliage of the trees, and the water of the stream. I have ever 
been of opinion, that God can be as well propitiated in a field 
as a temple ; that he is not to be conciliated by empty protesta- 
tions, but grateful feelings; and that the heart can be devout 
when the tongue is silent. Yet there is always something want- 
ing to sublunary felicity, and I confess, I felt very sensibly the 
privation of those hills which so agreeably diversify the countiy 
of Europe. I would exclaim in the animated language of Rous- 
seau, " Jamais pays de plaine, quelque beau qu'l fut, ne parut 
tel a mes yeux. II me faut des torrens, des rochers, des sapins, 
-des-bois noirs, des chemins raboteux a monter et a descendre, des 
precipices a mes cotes qui me fassent bien peur* I" 

In my walk to Coosohatchie I passed here and there a planta- 
tion, but to have called on its owner without a previous intro- 
duction, would have been a breach of that etiquette which has 
its source from the depravity of great cities, but has not failed tc* 
find its way into the woods of America. When I first beheld a 
fine lady drawn by four horses through the woods of Carolina in 
her coach, and a train of servants following the vehicle, clad in a 
magnificent livery, I looked up with sorrow at that luxury and 
refinement, which are hastening with rapid strides to change the 
pure and sylvan scenes of nature into a theatre of pride and os- 
tentation. When Venus enchanted iEneas with, her presence in 
the woods, she was not attired in the dress of the ladies of queen 
Dido's court ; but, huntress like, had hung from her shoulders a 
bow, and was otherwise equipped for the toils of the chase. 

On coming to Coosohatchie, I repaired to the post-office, which 
never failed to give me an epistle from my beloved and literary 

* Confession Tom. 2. 



IN AMERICA. 



23 



friend Mr. George ; who enlightened me with his knowledge, en- 
livened me with his wit, and consoled me with his reflections. I 
shall not expatiate on our genuine, disinterested friendship. He 
has consecrated to it a monument in his poem of the u Wan- 
derer." What but the heart could have dictated the following 1 
passage ? 

" Here doom'd to pant beneath a torrid sky, 
And cast to happier climes a wishful eyej 
No friend had I ray sorrows to deplore* 
With whom to pass the sympathetic hour! 
For many a stream, and many a waste divide, 
These lonely shores from Coosohatchie's tide! " 

I remember, with lively pleasure, my residence in the woods of 
South Carolina. Enjoying health in its plenitude, yet young * 
enough to receive new impressions ; cultivating daily my taste by 
the study of polite literature; blest with the friendship of a 
George, and living in the bosom of a family unruffled by domes • 
tie cares ; how could I be otherwise than happy, and how can I 
refrain from the pleasure of retrospection. 

Coosohatchie ! thou shalt not be unknown, if, by what elo- 
quence nature has given me, I can call forth corresponding 
emotions in the breast of my reader to those which my own felt 
when wandering silently through thy woods. 

My pupils in the woods of Coosohatchie, consisted of a boy 
and two young ladies. William Henry was an interesting lad of 
fourteen, ingenuous of disposition, and a stranger to fear. He 
was fond to excess of the chace. His heart danced with joy at 
the mention of a deer ; and he blew his horn, called together his 
dogs, and hooped and hallooed in the woods, with an animation 
that would have done honour to a veteran sportsman. O ! for 
the muse of an Ovid, to describe the dogs of this young Actaeon. 
There were Sweetlips, and Ringwood, and Music, and Smoker, 
whose barking was enough to frighten the wood nymphs to their 

caves His eldest sister, Maria, though not a regular beauty, 

was remarkable for her dark eyes and white teeth, and, what was 
not less captivating, an amiable temper. She was grateful to me 
for my instruction, and imposed silence on her brother when I 
invoked the muse in school. But it was difficult to controul her 
little sister Sally, whom in sport and wantonness they called Ti- 
bousa. This little girl was distinguished by the languish of her 
blue eyes, from which, however^ she could dart fire when William 
offended her. Sally was a charming girl, whose beauty promised 

to equal that of her mother. That I passed many happy hours 

in watching and assisting the progress of the minds of these 



24 



TRAVELS^ &C. 



young people, I feel no repugnance to acknowledge. My long 
residence in a country where " honour and shame from no con- 
dition rise," has placed me above the ridiculous pride of disown- 
ing the situation of a tutor. 

Though the plantation of Mr. Drayton was immense, his 
dwelling was only a log-house ; a temporary fabric, built to reside 
in during the winter. But his table was sumptuous, and an ele- 
gance of manners presided at it that might have vied with the 
highest circles of polished Europe. I make the eulogium, or 
rather, exhibit the character of Mr. Drayton, in one word, by 
saying, he was a gentleman ; for under that portraiture I compre- 
hend whatever there is of honour. Nor can 1 refrain from speak- 
ing in panegyric terms of his lady, whose beauty and elegance 
were her least qualities ; for she was a tender mother, a sincere 
friend, and walked humbly with her God. She was indeed 
deserving the solicitude of her husband, who would " not suffer 
the winds of heaven to visit her face too roughly." 

It is usual in Carolina to sit an hour at table after supper ; at 
least, it was our custom in the woods of Coosohatchie. It was 
then I related my adventures to Mr. and Mrs. Drayton, in the 
eastern section of the globe, who not only endured my tales, but 
were elated with my successes, and depressed by my misfortunes. 

About ten I withdrew to my chamber and my books, where I 
found a sparkling fire of wood, and where I meditated, smoked 
segars, and was lost in my own musings. The silence of the 
night invited meditation ; but often was I to be seen at three in 
the morning sitting before my chamber fire, surrounded like 
Magliabechi by my papers and my books. My study was Latin, 
and my recreation, the Confessions of the eloquent citizen of 
Geneva. 

But I was not without company. A merry cricket in my chim- 
ney corner never failed to cheer me with his song — A cricket is 
not to be contemned. It is related by BufFon that they are sold 
publicly in the Asiatic markets ; and it is recorded of Scaliger, 
that he kept several in a box. I remember an ode which I con- 
secrated to my midnight companion. 

ODE TO A CRICKET. 
Little guest, with merry throat, 

That chirpest by my taper's light, 
Come, prolong thy blithsome note, 

Welcome visitant of night. 
Here enjoy a calm retreat, 

In my chimney safely dwell, 
No rude hand thy haunt shall beat, 

Or chase thee from thy lonely cell 



IN AMERICA. 



25 



Come, recount me all thy woes, 

While around us sighs the gale,- 
Or, rejoic'd to find repose, 

Charm me with thy merry tale. 

Say, what passion moves thy breast: 

Does some flame employ thy care? 
Perhaps with love thou art oppresr, 

A mournful victim to despair. 

Shelter'd from the wint'ry wind, 

Live and sing, and banish care; 
Here protection thou shalt find, 

Sympathy has brought thee here. 

The country in our neighbourhood consisted of lofty forests of 
pine, oak, and hickory. Well might I have exclaimed in the 
words of my poetical friend : 

" Around an endless wild of forests lies, 
And pines on pines for ever meet the eyesl " 

The land, as I have before suggested, was perfectly level. Not 
the smallest acclivity was visible, and therefore no valley rejoiced 
the sight with its verdure. 

The staple commodity of the state is rice, but cotton is now 
eagerly cultivated where the soil is adapted to the purpose. The 
culture of indigo is nearly relinquished. It attains more perfec- 
tion in the East-Indies, which can amply supply the markets of 
Europe. It is to the crop of cotton that the planter looks for the 
augmentation of his wealth. Of cotton there are two kinds ; the 
sea-island, and inland. The first is the most valuable. The 
ground is hoed for planting the latter part of March; but as 
frosts are not unfrequent the beginning of April, it is judicious 
not to plant before that time. Cotton is of a very tender nature. 
A frost, or even a chilling wind, has power to destroy the rising 
plant, and compel the planter to begin anew his toil. 

The winds in autumn are so tempestuous, that they tear np the 
largest trees by the roots. Homer, some thousand years ago, 
witnessed a similar scene : 

" Leaves, arms and trees aloft in air are blown, 
The broad oaks crackle, and the sylvans groan; 
This way and that, the rattling thicket bends, 
And the whole forest in one crash descends." 

Of the feathered race, the mocking-bird first claims my notice. 
It is perfectly domestic, and sings frequently for hours on the 
roof of a log-house. It is held sacred by the natives. Even chil- 
dren respect the bird whose imitative powers are so delightful. 

I heard the mocking-bird for the first time on the first day of 

E 



26 



TRAVELS, &C 



March. It was warbling, close to my window, from a tree called 
by some the pride of India, and by others the poison-berry tree. 
Its song was faint, resembling that of birds hailing the rising-sun ; 
but it became stronger as the spring advanced. The premices of 
this mocking songster could not but delight me; and I ad- 
dressed the bird in an irregular ode, which Mrs. Drayton did me 
the honour to approve. 

ODE TO THE MOCKING-BIRD. 

Swbet bird, whose imitative strain, 
Of all thy race can counterfeit the note^ 

And with a burthen'd heart complain, 
Or to the song of joy attune the throat ; 

To thee I touch the string, 
While at my casement, from the neighb'ring tree, 

Thou hail'st the coming spring, 
And plaintive pour'st thy voice, or mock'st with merry glee. 

Thou bring'st to my mind, 

The characters we find 
Amid the motley scenes of human life; 

How very few appear 

The garb of truth to wear, 
But with a borrow'd voice, conceal a heart of strife 

Sure then, with wisdom fraught, 

Thou art by nature taught, 
Dissembled joy in others to deride; 

And when the mournful heart 

Assumes a sprightly part, 
To note the cheat, and with thy mocking chide. 

But when, with midnight song, 

Thou sing'st the woods among, 
And softer feelings in the breast awake * ; 

Sure then thy rolling note 

Does sympathy denote, 
And shews thou can'st of others' grief partake. 

Pour out thy lengthen'd strain, 

With woe and griaf complain, 
And blend thy sorrows in the mournful lay ; 

Thy moving tale reveal, 

Make me soft pity feel, 
I love in silent woe to pass the day. 

The humming-bird was often caught in the bells of flowers. 
It is remarkable for its variegated plumage of scarlet, green, and 
gold. 

The whip-poor-will, is heard after the last frost, when, towards 
night, it fills the woods with its melancholy cry of " Whip poor 

* Put for awak'st. 



IN AMERICA. 



27 



Will ! Whip poor Will ! " 1 remember to have seen mention 
made of this bird in a Latin poem, written by an early colonist. 

" Hie Avis repetens, Whip! Whip! Will, voce jocosa, 
QuEe tota verno terwpore nocte canit." 

The note of the red-bird is imitated with nice precision by the 
mocking-bird ; but there is a bird called the loggerhead that will 
not bear passively its taunts. His cry resembles " Clink, clink, 
clank;" which, should the mocking-bird presume to imitate, he 
flies and attacks the mimic for his insolence. But this only in- 
curs a repetition of the offence so true is it, that among birds as 
well as men, anger serves only to sharpen the edge of ridicule. 
It is observable, that the loggerhead is known to suck the eggs 
of the mocking-bird, and devour the young ones in the nest. 

Eagles were often seen on the plantation. The rencounter 
between one of them and a fish-hawk is curious. When the fish- 
hawk has seiz'd his prey, his object is to get above the eagle ; but 
when unable to succeed, the king of birds darts on him fiercely, 
at whose approach the hawk, with a horrid cry, lets fall the fish, 
which the eagle catches in his beak before it descends to the 
ground. 

The w T oods abound with deer, the hunting of which forms the 
chief diversion of the planters. I never failed to accompany my 
neighbours in their parties, but I cannot say that I derived much 
pleasure from standing several hours behind a tree. 

This mode of hunting, is, perhaps, not generally known. On 
riding to a convenient spot in the woods, the hunters dismount, 
take their stands at certain distances, hitch their horses to a tree, 
and prepare their guns, — while a couple of negroes lead the 
beagles into the thickest of the forest. The barking of the dogs 
announces that the deer are dislodged, and on whatever side 
they run, the sportmen fire at them from their lurking-places. 
The first day two bucks passed near my tree. 1 had heard the 
ciy of the dogs, and put my gun on a whole cock. The first 
buck glided by me with the rapidity of lightning ; but the second 
I wounded with my fire, as was evident from his twitching his 
tail between his legs in the agony of pain. I heard Col. Pastell 
exclaim from the next tree, after discharging his piece, " By 
heaven, that fellow is wounded, let us mount and follow him : he 
cannot run far." I accompanied the venerable colonel through the 
woods, and in a few minutes, directed by the scent of a beagle, 
we reached the spot where the deer had fallen. It was a noble 
buck, and we dined on it like kings. 

Fatal accidents sometimes attend the hunters in the woods. 
Two brothers a few years ago, having taken their respective 



28 



TRAVELS, .&C. 



stands behind a tree, the el#er fired at a deer which the dogs had 
started; but, his shot being diverted by a fence, it flew off and 
lodged in the body of his brother. The deer passing on, the 
wounded brother discharged his gun which had been prepared, 
killed the animal, and staggering a few paces, expired himself. 
This disaster was related to me by Colonel Pastell and his son, 
Major Warley, and Captain Pelotte, who lived on the neighbour- 
ing plantations, and composed our hunting party. 

After killing half a dozen deer, we assembled by appointment 
at some planter's house, whither the mothers, and wives, and 
daughters of the hunters had got before us in their carriages. A 
dinner of venison, killed the preceding hunt, smoked before us, 
the richest Madeira sparkled in the glass, and we forgot, in our 
hilarity, there was any other habitation for man but that of the 
woods. 

In this hunting-party was always to be found my pupil, Wil- 
liam Henry, who gallopped through the woods, however thick or 
intricate; summoned his beagles, after the toil of the chase, with 
his horn ; caressed the dog that had been the most eager in pur- 
suit of the deer, and expressed his hope there would be good 
weather to hunt again the following Saturday. 

I did not repress this ardour in my pupil. I beheld it with sa- 
tisfaction ; for the man doomed to pass every winter in the 
woods, would find his life very irksome, could he not partake, 
with his neighbours, in the diversions they afford. 

" Ludere qui nescit, campestribus abstinet arrais> 

Indoctusque pilce, discive., trochive quiescit, 

Ne spissae risura tollant impuae coron<e." Hor. 

Wolves were sometimes heard on the plantation in the night; 
and, when incited by hunger, would attack a calf and devour it. 
One night, however, some wolves endeavouring to sieze on a calf, 
the dam defended her offspring with such determined resolution, 
that the hungry assailants were compelled to retreat with thu tail 
only of the calf, which one of them had bitten off. 

Wild cats are very common and mischievous in the woods. 
When a sow is ready to litter, she is always enclosed with a fence 
or rails, for, otherwise, the wild cats would devour the pigs. 

I generally accompanied my pupil into the woods in his shoot- 
ing excursions, determined both to make havoc among birds and 
beasts of every description. Sometimes we fired in volleys at the 
flocks of doves that frequent the corn-fields ; sometimes we dis- 
charged our pieces at the wild geese, whose empty cackling be- 
trayed them ; and once we brought down some paroquets, that 
were directing their course over our heads to Georgia. Nor was 



IN AMERICA. 



29 



it an undelightful task to fire at the squirrels on the tops of the 
highest trees, who, however artful, could seldom elude the shot 
of my eager companion. 

The affability and tenderness of this charming family in the 
bosom of the woods, will be ever cherished in my breast, and 
long recorded, I hope, in this page. My wants were always anti- 
cipated. The family library was transported without entreaty 
into my chamber ; paper, and the apparatus for writing, were 
placed on my table ; and once having lamented that my stock of 
segars was nearly exhausted, a negro was dispatched seventy 
miles to Charleston, for a supply of the best Spanish. 

1 conclude my description of this elegant family, with an obser- 
vation that will apply to every other that I have been domesti- 
cated in, on the western continent ; that cheerfulness and quiet 
always predominated, and that 1 never saw a brow clouded, or a 
lip opened in anger. 

One diminution to the happiness of an European in the woods 
of Carolina, is the reflection that every want is supplied him by 
slaves. The negroes on the plantation, including house-servants 
and children, amounted to a hundred ; of whom the average price 
being respectively seventy pounds, made them aggregately worth 
seven thousand to their possessor. 

Two families lived in one hut, and such was their unconquer- 
able propensity to steal, that they pilfered from each other. I 
have heard masters lament this defect in their negroes. But 
what else can be expected from man in so degraded a condition, 
that among the ancients the same word implied both a slave and 
a thief. 

Since the introduction of the culture of cotton in the state of 
South Carolina, the race of negroes has increased. Both men 
and women work in the field, and the labour of the rice planta- 
tion formerly prevented the pregnant negress from bringing forth 
a long-lived offspring. It may be established as a maxim, that, 
on a plantation where there are many children, the work has 
been moderate. 

It may be incredible to some, that the children of the most dis- 
tinguished families in Carolina, are suckled by negro-women. 
Each child has its momma, whose gestures and accent it will ne- 
cessarily copy, for children we all know are imitative beings. , It 
is not unusual to hear an elegant lady say, Richard always 
grieves when Quasheebaw is whipped, because she suckled him!" 
If Rousseau in his Emile could inveigh against the French mo- 
ther, who consigned her child to a woman of her own colour to 
suckle, how would his indignation have been raised, to behold a 



30 



TRAVELS, &C. 



smiling babe tugging with its roseate lips at a dug of a size and 
colour to affright a satyr ? 

Before I quit the woods of Coosohatchie, it will be expected 
from me to fill the imagination of my reader with " the vengeful 
terrors of the rattle-snake/' that meditates destruction to the un- 
wary. Were I really pleased with such tales, I would not con- 
tent myself with the story of the fascinating power of a rattle- 
snake over birds, but relate how a negro was once irresistibly 
charmed and devoured. 

Vegetation is singularly quick in the woods of Carolina. Of 
flowers, the jessamine and woodbine grow wild; but the former 
differs widely from that known by the same name in England, 
being of a straw colour, and having large bells. Violets perfume 
the woods and roads with their fragrance. 

In bogs, and marshy situations, is found the singular plant 
called the fly-catcher by the natives, and, I believe, dionse mus- 
cipula by botanists. Its jointed leaves are furnished with two 
rows of strong prickles, of which the surfaces are covered with a 
quantity of minute glands that secrete a sweet liquor, which al- 
lures the flies. When these parts are touched by the legs of a 
fly, the two lobes of the leaf immediately rise, the rows of pric- 
kles compress themselves, and squeeze the unwary insect to 
death. But a straw or pin introduced between the lobes will 
excite the same motions. 

The honey of the bees in Carolina is exquisitely delicious, and 
these insects are very sagacious in chusing their retreats. They 
seek lodgings in the upper part of the trunk of the loftiest tree ; 
but here their nests cannot elude the searching eyes of the ne- 
groes and children. The tree is either scaled or cut down, the 
bees are tumbled from their honeyed domes, and their treasures 
rifled. 

It appears to me that in Carolina, the simplicity of the first 
colonists is obliterated, and that the present inhabitants strive to 
exceed each other in the vanities of life. Slight circumstances 
often mark the manners of a people. In the opulent families, 
there is always a negro placed on the look-out, to announce the 
coming of any visitant ; and the moment a carriage, or horseman, 
is descried, each negro changes his every day garb for a magnifi- 
cent suit of livery. As the negroes wear no shirts, this is quickly 
effected; and in a few moments a ragged fellow is metamor- 
phosed into a spruce footman. And woe to them should they 
neglect it ; for their master would think himself disgraced, and 
Sambo and CuiTy incur a severe flogging. 

In Carolina, the legislative and executive powers of the house 



IN AMERICA. 



31 



belong to the mistress, the master has little or nothing to do 
with the administration ; he is a monument of uxoriousness and 
passive endurance. The negroes are -not without the discernment 
to perceive this; and when the husband resolves to flog them, 
they often throw themselves at the feet of the wife, and supplicate 
her mediation. But the ladies of Carolina, and particularly those 
of Charleston, have little tenderness for their slaves ; on the con- 
trary, they send both their men-slaves and women-slaves, for 
the most venial trespass, to a hellish mansion, called the sugar- 
house : here a man employs inferior agents to scourge the poor 
negroes : a shilling for a dozen lashes is the charge : the man or 
woman, is stripped naked to the waist; a redoubtable whip at 
every lash flays the back of the culprit, who, agonized at every 
pore, rends the air with his cries. 

Mrs. Drayton informed me, that a lady of Charleston once ob- 
served to her, that she thought it abominably dear to pay a 
shilling for a dozen lashes, and, that having many slaves, she 
would bargain with the man at the sugar-house to flog them by 
the year! 

It has been observed by Mr. Jefferson, that negroes secreting 
little by the kidnies, but much by the pores, exhale a strong 
effluvia*. But great is the power of habit, and in the hottest 
day of summer, when the thermometer in the shade has risen to 
a hundred, J have visited a dinner-party of ladies and gentlemen, 
surrounded by a tribe of lusty negro-men and women. I leave 
my reader to draw the inference. 

An Englishman cannot but draw a proud comparison between 
his own country and Carolina. He feels with a glow of enthu- 
siasm the force of the poet's exclamation : 

" Slaves cannot breathe in England! 
They touch our country, and their shackles fall; 
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud 
And jealous of their rights." 

It is, indeed, grating to an Englishman to mingle with society 
in Carolina; for the people, however well-bred in other respects, 
have no delicacy before a stranger in what relates to their slaves. 
These wretches are execrated for every involuntary offence ; but 
negroes endure execrations without emotion, for they say, 
" when mossa curse, he break no bone." But every master 
does not confine himself to oaths ; and I have heard 'a man say, 
u By heaven, my negurs talk the worst English of any in Caro- 
lina : that boy just now called a bason a round-something : take 
him to the driver 1 let him have a dozen ! " 

* Vide, notes on Virginia. 



TRAVELS, &C. 



Exposed to such wanton cruelty, the negroes frequently run 
away ; they flee into the woods, where they are wet with the 
rains of heaven, and embrace the rock for want of a shelter. Life 
must be supported; hunger incites to depredation, and the poor 
wretches are often shot like the beasts of prey. When taken, the 
men are put in irons, and the boys have their necks encircled with 
u " pot-hook/* 

The Charleston papers abound with advertisements for fugitive 
slaves. 1 have a curious advertisement now before me. " Stop 
the runaway ! Fifty dollars rewards ! Whereas my waiting fellow, 
Will, having eloped from me last Saturday, without any provo- 
cation, (it being known that I am a humane master) the above 
reward will be paid to any one who will lodge the aforesaid slave 
in some jail, or deliver him to me on my plantation at Liberty 
Hall. Will may be known by the incisions of the whip on 
his back; and I suspect has taken the road to Coosohatchie, 
where he has a wife and five children, whom I sold last week to 
Mr. Gillespie A. Levi." 

No climate can be hotter than that of South Carolina and 
Georgia. In the piazza of a house at Charleston, when a breeze 
has prevailed, and there has been no other building near to re- 
flect the heat of the sun, I have known the mercury in Fahren- 
heit's thermometer to stand at 101. In the night it did not sink 
below b9. 

Animal heat I ascertained to be less than the heat of the wea- 
ther. By confining the thermometer to the hottest part of my 
body, I found the mercury subside from 101 to 96. In fact, 1 
never could raise the thermometer higher than 96 by animal heat*. 

In a voyage to the East-Indies, 1 kept a regular account of the 
height of the thermometer, both in the sun and the shade. My 
journal is now before me. At eight in the morning, when our 
ship was on the equator, the thermometer in the shade was only 
77 degrees ; and the same day in the sun at noon it was 99 f. 

It may be advanced that the pavements of Charleston, and the 
situation of Savannah, which is built on a sandy eminence, may 
augment the heat of the weather ; but be that as it may, it is, I 
think, incontrovertible, that no two places on the earth are hot- 
ter than Savannah and Charleston. I do not remember that 
the thermometer'in the shade at Batavia exceeded 101. 

* Boerhave fixed the rital heat at only 9-2 degrees; but both Sir Isaac Newton, and 
Fahrenheit have made it 96. 

t X have found, since making these observations, that from nearly 4000 experiments 
made at Madras, the medium height of the thermometer was 80, 9. The general greatest 
height, 87, J ; and the least, 75, 5. The extreme difference, 11, half. 



IN AMERICA. 



33 



But if the beat of the weather in the southernmost states be 
excessive, not less sudden are its changes. In fact, so variable is 
the weather, that one day not unfrequently exhibits the vicissi- 
tudes of the four seasons. The remark of an early colonist is 
more than poetically true. 

M Hie adeo inconstans est, et variabile caelum, 
Una ut non raro est astus hiemsque die." 

J have known one day the mercury to stand at 85 ; and the 
next, it has sunk to 39. 

But it is from the middle of June to the middle of September, 
that the excessive heats prevail. It is then the debilitating qua- 
lity of the weather consigns the languid lady to her sopha, who, 
if she lets fall her pocket-handkerchief, has not strength to pick 
it up, but calls to one of her black girls, who is all life and vigour. 
Hence there is a proportion of good and evil in every condition ; 
for a negro-girl is not more a slave to her mistress, than her mis- 
tress to a sopha ; and the one riots in health, while the other has 
every faculty enervated. 

Negroes are remarkably tolerant of heat. A negro in the 
hottest month will court a fire. 

From the black there is an easy transition to the white man. 
Society in Carolina exhibits not that unrestrained intercourse 
which characterises English manners. And this remark will 
apply throughout the States of the Union. The English have 
been called reserved ; and an American who forms his notions of 
their manners from Addison and Steele, entertains a contempti- 
ble opinion of the cheerfulness that prevails in the nook-shotten 
isle of Albion. 

But let the cheerfulness of both countries be fairly weighed, 
and I believe the scale will preponderate in favour of the English. 
That quality termed humour, is not indigenous to America. The 
pleasantries of a droll would not relax the risible muscles of a 
party of Americans, however disposed to be merry; the wag 
would feel no encouragement from the surrounding countenances, 
to exert his laughter-moving powers ; but like the tyrant in 
the tragedy, he would be compelled to swallow the poison that 
was prepared for another. 

Cotton in Carolina, and horse-racing in Virginia, are the pre- 
vailing topics of conversation : these reduce every understanding 
to a level, and to these Americans return from the ebullitions of 
the humourist, as the eye weary of contemplating the sun, re- 
joices to behold the verdure. 

Captain Pelotte, who, I have observed, composed one of our, 
huntiug-party, having invited me to the review of the militia of 

F 



34 TRAVELS, &C 

Coosoharchie district, I rode with him to the muster-field, near 
Bee's-Creek, where his troop was assembled. It was a pleasant 
spot of thirty acres, belonging to a school- master, who educated 
the children of the families in the neighbourhood . 

There is scarcely any contemplation more pleasing than the 
sight of a flock of boys and girls just let loose from school. Those 
whom nature designed for an active enterprising life, will con- 
tend for being foremost to cross the threshold of the school-door; 
while others of a more wary temper, keep remote frqm the strife. 

throng of boys and g rls was just released from the confine- 
ment of the school, as I reached Bee's-Creek with Captain 
Pelottc. Our horses and they were mutually acquainted. The 
beasts pricked up their ears, and some of the children saluted 
them byname; while some, regardless of both the horses and 
their riders, were earnestly pursuing butterflies; some stooping to 
gather flowers ; some chaunting songs, and all taking the road 
that led to the muster-field. If ever 1 felt the nature that breaihes 
through Shenstone's School poem, it was on beholding this band 
of little men and little women. 

" And now Dan Phoebus gains the middle sky. 

And Liberty unbars her prison- door, 
And like a rushing torrent, u,ut ihey fly, 

And now the grassy cirque is cover'd o'er 
With boist'rous revel rout, and wild uproar; 

A thousand ways in wan>on rings they run, 
Heav'n shield their short-liv'd pastimes, I implore ! 

For well may Freedom, erst so dearly won, 
Be to Columbia's sons more gladsome than the sun ! " 

Captain Pelotte having reviewed his soldiers, marched them 
triumphantly, round a huge oak that grew in the centre of the 
parade, animated by the sound of the spirit-stirring drum ; and 
afterwards laid siege to a dinner of venison in the open air, to 
which 1 gave my assistance. It was a republican meal. Cap- 
tains, lieutenants, and privates, all sat down together at table, 
and mingled in familiar converse. But the troop devoured such 
an enormous quantity of rice, that I was more than once inclined 
to believe they had emigrated from China. 

On the 7th of April, 1799, I accepted the invitation of a Mr. 
Wilson, who was visiting the family at Ocean, to accompany him 
to Savannah ; glad with the opportunity to extend my travels 
into Georgia^ and not less happy to cultivate his acquaintance. 

We left Ocean plantation at eight in the morning. Mr. Wilson 
drove himself in a sulky, and I rode on horseback, followed by a 
servant on another. 



IN AMERICA. 



35 



. Oitr journey offered nothing to the view but an uncultivated 
tract, or one continued pine-barren ; for Priesburg is a village 
composed of only three bouses, and Barnazoba can boast only 
the sairie number of plantations. 

Having refreshed ourselves in the hoitse of Mrs. Hayward's 
overseer (the lady was gone to Charleston), we waded from Bar- 
nazoba, through mud and mire, to the mouth of a creek, where 
we embarked with a couple of negroes in a canoe, and were 
paddled into a small river that empties itself into that of Savan- 
nah. Again we landed, and walked about a mite to another plan- 
tation, of which the white people were absent, but the negroes 
remained. Here we launched a large canoe, aud were rowed to 
my companion's plantation ; dining on the water in our passage 
thither. The negroes of the plantation beheld the corning of Mr. 
Wilson with joy ; old and young of both sexes came to the land- 
ing-place to welcome his approach. The canoe was in a moment 
run high and dry upon the beach, and the air resounded with 
acclamations. 

We left the plantation in a four-oared canoe, and were rowed 
with velocity up the beautiful river of Savannah. Quantities of 
alligators were basking in the sun on both shores. They brought 
to my recollection the happy description of Ariosto. 

" Vive sub lito e dentro a la Riviera, 
Ei corpi umani son le sue vivande, 
De le persone misere e incaute, 
Di Viandanti e d' infelice naufe." 

This animal (says the poet) lives on the river and its banks; 
preying on human flesh : the bodies of unwary travellers, of pas j 
sengers, and of sailors. 

We landed at Yamacraw, the name given by the Indians to the 
spot on which part of Savannah is built; and after ploughing 
through one or two streets of sand, we reached Dillon's board- 
ing-house, where we were obligingly received, and comfortably 
accommodated. There was a large party at supper, composed 
principally of cotton manufacturers from Manchester, whose con- 
versation operated on me like a dose of opium. Cotton 1 Cotton !- 
Cotton ! was their never-ceasing topic. Oh ! how many travel- 
lers would have devoured up their discourse 5 for my par t I fell 
asleep, and nodded till a negro offered to light me to my room. 

Savannah is built on a sandy eminence. Let the English rea- 
der picture to himself a town erected on the cliffs of Dover, and 
he will behold Savannah. But the streets are so insupportably 
sandy, that every inhabitant wears goggles over his eyes, which 



36 



TRAVELS, &C. 



give the people an appearance of being in masquerade. When 
the wind is violent, Savannah is a desart scene. 

Having purchased a little edition of Mrs. Smith's sonnets, my 
delight was to ascend the eminence which commands the view of 
the river, and read my book undisturbed. With my pencil I 
wrote on my tablets the following sonnet to the author. 

SONNET TO CHARLOTTE SMITH. 

Blest Poetess! who tell'st so soft tby woe, 
I love to ponder o'er thy mournful lay, 
In climes remote, where wan, forlorn, and slow. 
To the wash'd strand I bend my listless way. 

Now, on Savannah's cliffs I wayward read, 
III joy of grief, thy pity -moving strain, 
While smiles afar the variegated mead, 
And not a wave disturbs the tranquil main. 

Like thee, the Muse has from my infant hours, 
With smiles alluring won me to the grove; 
Snatch'd, in a playful mood, some scatter'd flow'rs 
To deck ray head, gay emblems of her love : 

But mine of light, deceitful hues are made, 
While thine of bloom perennial ne'er will fade. 

The llth of April, I returned with Mr. Wilson to the woods of 
Coosohatchie, which I found Mr. Drayton and family about to 
leave to their original tenants of racoons, squirrels, and opos- 
sums. 

My table was covered with letters from my friend. Mr. George 
had left the college of Charleston, for a seminary less famous, but 
more profitable, at George- town, at the confluence of the rivers 
Winyaw and Waecamaw. There, in concert with his uncle, an 
episcopal minister, he enjoyed society, and indulged in his fa- 
vourite studies. 



IN AMERICA, 



37 



CHAP. IV. 

Pistmre of a Family travelling through the Woods. Terror in* 
spired by two Snakes , and the gallantry of an American Boy, 
Residence at Ashley River Removal to Sullivan's Island. 
Literary Projects, Anecdotes of Goldsmith, A Journey on 
Foot from Charleston to George-town. Elegy over the Grave 
of a Stranger in the Woods of Owendaw, Reception at George- 
town, Death of General Washington. Journey bach to 

Charleston, Embark for New -York. Incidents of the Voyage, 

IT was in the month of May, 1799, that Mr. Drayton and Ms 
family exchanged the savage woods of Coosohatchie, for the po- 
liter residence of their mansion on Ashley river. In our migra- 
tion we formed quite a procession. Mr. Drayton occupied the 
coach with his lady and youngest daughter; and i advanced next 
with my fair pupil in a chair, followed by William Henry, on a 
prancing nag, and half a dozen negro fellows, indifferently 
mounted, but wearing the laced livery of an opulent master. 
Thus hemmed in by the coach before, a troop of horsemen be- 
hind, and impenetrable woods on both sides, I could not refraia 
from whispering in the ear of my companion, that her friends 
had put it out of my power to run away with her that day. 

About three in the afternoon, our journey being suspended by 
ihe heat of the weather, we stopped to eat a cold dinner, in a 
kind of lodge that had been erected by some hunters on the road- 
side, and which now hospitably accommodated a family travelling 
through the woods. 

Here we took possession of the benches round the table to 
enjoy our repast ; turning the horses loose to seek the shade 5 
and cooling our wine in a spring that murmured near the spot. 
William Henry, having snatched a morsel, got ready his fowling- 
piece, to penetrate the woods in search of wiid turkies; and 
while we were rallying him on his passion for shooting, the cry 
from a negro of a rattle-snake ! disturbed our tranquillity. The 
snake was soon visible to every eye, dragging its slow length 
along the root of a large tree, and directing its attention to a 
bird, which chattered and fluttered from above, and seemed irre- 
sistibly disposed to fall into his distended jaws. London, a negro 
servant, had snatched up a log, and was advancing to strike the 
monster a blow on the head, when a black snake, hastening fu- 



TRAVELS, &C. 



fiously to the spot, immediately gave battle to the rattle-snake, 
and suspended, by his unexpected appearance, the power of the 
negro's arm. We now thought we had got into a nest of snakes, 
and the girls were screaming with fright, when William Henry, 
taking an unerring aim with his gun, shot the rattle-snake, in the 
act of repulsing his enemy. The black snake, without a mo- 
ment's procrastination, returned into the woods, and profiting by 
his example, we all pursued our journey, except William Henry, 
who stopped with a negro to take out the rattles of the mon- 
ster he had killed. My pupil presented me with these rattles, 
which I carried for three years in my pocket, and finally gave 
them to the son of a Mr. Andrews, of Warminster, who had emi- 
grated to Baltimore, and had been to me singularly obliging. 

We stopped a few days at Stono, where we were kindly receiv- 
ed by Mr. Wilson, my late travelling companion into Georgia. I 
expected that William Henry would receive the applauses of his 
friends for the presence of mind he had displayed in killing the 
rattle-snake ; but when the youngest sister recited the story to 
the family, they heard her without emotion, and only smiled at 
it as a trifling incident. 

In the venerable mansion at Ashley river, I again directed 
the intellectual progress of my interesting pupils, and, enlarged 
the imagination of William, by putting Pope's version of the 
Odyssey into his hands, which I found among other books that 
composed the family library. He had before read the Iliad ; but 
neither Patroclus slain by Hector, nor Hector falling beneath 
the avenging arm of Achilles, imparted half the rapture which 
Ulysses inspired, with his companions in the cave of Poly- 
phemus. 

The garden of Mr. Drayton's mansion led to the bank of Ash- 
ley river, which, after a rapid course of twenty miles, discharged 
itself into the Atlantic. The river was not wanting in pictu- 
resqueness, and, once, while stretched at my ease on its banks, I 
meditated an ode. 

ODE ON ASHLEY RIVER. 

Ox gentle Ashley's winding flood, 

Enjoying philosophic rest; 
I court the calm, embrageous wood, 

No more with baleful care opprest. 

Or, on its banks supinely laid, 

The distant mead and field survey, 
Where branching laurels form a shade 

To keep me from the solar raj. 



IN AMERICA. 



39 



While flows the limpid stream along, 

With quick meanders through the grove, 
And iroin each bird is beard the song 

Of careless gaiety and love. 

And when the nioon, with lustre bright, 

Around me throws her silver beam, 
I catch new transport from the sight, 

And view her shadow in the stream. 

While Whip-poor-will repeats his tale, 

That echoes from the boundless plain; 
And blithsome to the passing gale, 

The Mocking-bird pours out his strain. 

Hence with a calm, contented mind 

Sweet pleasure co nes without alloy; 
Our own felicity we find — 

'Tis froa the heart springs genuine joy. 

An elder brother of Mr. Drayton was our neighbour on the 
river ; he occupied, perhaps, the largest house and gardens in 
the United States of America. Indeed^ I was now breathing the 
politest atmosphere in America ; for our constant visitants were 
the highest people in the state, and possessed of more house ser- 
vants, than there are inhabitants at Occoquan. These people 
never moved but in a carriage, lolled on sophas instead of sitting 
on chairs, and were always attended by their negroes to fan them 
with a peacock's feather. Such manners were ill-suited to an 
Englishman who loved his ease; and whenever their carnages 
were announced, I always took my gun, and went into the woods. 

From Ashley river, after a short residence, we removed to 
Charleston, which was full of visitors from the woods, and ex- 
hibited a motley scene. Here was to be perceived a coach, 
without a glass to exclude the dust, driven by a black fellow, not 
less proud of the livery of luxury, than the people within the 
vehicle were of a suit made in the fashion. There was to be dis- 
covered a Carolinian buck, who had left off essences and powder, 
and, in what related to his hair, resembled an ancient Roman; 
but in the distribution of his dress, was just introducing that 
fashion in Charleston, which was giving way in succession to 
another in London. But he had an advantage over his trans- 
atlantic rival; he not only owned the horse he rode, but the 
servant who followed. To be brief, such is the pride of the peo- 
ple of Charleston, that no person is seen on foot unless it be a 
mechanic. He who is without horses and slaves, incurs always 
contempt. 

1 found my friend, Dr. De Bow, in high repute at Charleston, 
and not without the hope that he should soon keep his carri ige. 



40 



TRAVELS, &C. 



He entreated I would lend him my assistance to write an essay- 
on the croup. I begged to be excused, by professing my utter 
unacquaintance with the mode of treating the disease. The doc- 
tor was here interrupted by a negro-boy, who called him to 
attend his master in the last stage of the yellow-fever. The doc- 
tor immediately slipped on a black coat and snatching up his 
gold-headed-cane, followed the negro down stairs. 

The doctor being gone, it was not possible to do justice to the 
treatise on the croup ; but finding myself disposed to write some- 
thing, 1 addressed my friend in an ode. The doctor was about 
to embark for the Havannah, as surgeon of a ship;, and his ap- 
proaching voyage furnished me with a hint. 

ODE TO WILLIAM DE BOW, M. D. 
Since on the ocean's boundless deep, 

Once more impell'd by tale you go, 
The Muse the trembling wire would sweep, 

And soft invoke each gale to blow. 

Long has it been our doom to roam, 

With hearts by friendship's cement bound, 

(The world at large our only home) 
O'er many a wide expanse of ground. 

At Philadelphia's sad confine, 

Where death stalk'd round with aspect wild. 

We saw the widow vainly pine, 

And heard the mother mourn her child : 

While desolation mark'd the scene 

And groans of dying fill'd each gale, 
Where dance no more rejoic'd the green> 

Nor song re-echo'd from the dale. 

May no such griefs again demand 

The sigh of pity from thy breast, 
But jocund pleasure's mirthful band, 

Sooth ev'ry baleful care to rest. 

Then festive let thy moments flow, 

While round thee roars the briny flood j • 

May ev'ry breeze auspicious blow, 
And nought provoke the wat'ry god. 

Having leisure for some literary undertaking, I issued a pro- 
spectus for the publication of two Vogages to the East-Indies. 
The work w r as to be comprised in an octavo volume, and deliver- 
ed to subscribers for two dollars. Mr. Drayton, without hesita- 
tion, subscribed for ten copies 5 and in a few weeks, I could boast 
a long list of subscribers from the circles of fashion. 

To avoid the fever, which every summer commits its ravages at 
Charleston, Mr. Drayton removed with his family in July, to ft 



IN AMERICA. 



41 



-convenient house on Sullivan's island. The front windows com- 
manded a view of the Atlantic, whose waves broke with fury not 
a hundred yards from the door. It is almost superfluous to ob- 
serve, that Sullivan's island lies opposite to Charleston, at the 
distance of eight miles. 

In the garden on our premises, I took possession of a neat lit- 
tle box, which served me for a seminary, and house of repose. 

Here I was gratified with the company of Mr. George, who 
came to visit me from George-town. Not more joyous was the 
meeting of Flaccus and Maro, at the Appian Way : 

" O! qui complexus, et gaudia quanta fuerunt! " 

He was received with every elegance of urbanity by Mr. and Mrs. 
Drayton ; but he compared our situation to iEneas among the 
Greeks; " vadimus immixti Danais haud numine nostra." So 
natural is it for a wit to ridicule his host. 

Passage-boats are always to be procured from Sullivan's island 
to Charleston, and I was introduced by my friend to an Irish 
clergyman, of the name of Best, who was attached to Mr. George, 
partly from his being an Irishman, and partly from esteem for 
his attainments. 

Mr. Best communicated to me a few anecdotes relative to 
Goldsmith, which I minuted down in his presence. 

u The Deserted Village," said he, " relates to scenes in which 
Goldsmith was an actor. Auburn is a poetical name for the vil- 
lage of Lissoy, in the county of Westmeath Barony, Kilkenny 
West. The name of the school- master was Paddy Burns. I re- 
member him well. He was indeed a man severe to view. A 
woman called Walsey Cruse, kept the alehouse. 

" Imagination fondly stops to trace 

The parlour-splendors of the festive place." 

" I have been often in the house. 

" The hawthorn-bush was remarkably large, and stood oppo- 
site the alehouse. I was once riding with Brady, titular Bishop 
of Ardagh, when he observed to me, Ma foy, Best, this huge, 
overgrown bush, is mightily in the way ; I will order it to be cut 
down. What, Sir, said I, cut down Goldsmith's hawthorn-bush, 
that supplies so beautiful an image in the Deserted Village ! Ma 
foy ! exclaimed the bishop, is that the hawthorn- bush 1 Then 
ever let it be sacred to the edge of the axe, and evil to him that 
would cut from it a branch." 

Mr. Best also related to me some anecdotes that would serve to 
illustrate the Traveller, which I regret are not preserved, for the 
Traveller is a poem that is ever read with new rapture. The 

G 



42 



TRAVELS, &C. 



mind can scarcely refrain from picturing Goldsmith in the capa- 
city of an adventurer ; travelling with an expansion to his mental 
powers, and feeling the impulse of his poetical genius ; observing 
with a philosophic eye the mingled scenes before him, and fram- 
ing from their diversity the subject of his poem. 

The stone of Sisyphus calling my friend back to George-town, 
I was once more left to the tuition of William Henry, and his sis- 
ters. My pupil was not, I believe, content with his insular situa- 
tion, but sighed for the woods, his dogs, and his gun. Man 
laughs at the sports of children, but even their most trifling pas- 
times form his most serious occupations ; and their drums, and 
rattles, and hobby-horses, are but the emblems and mockery of 
the business of mature age. 

No families are more migratory than those of Carolina. From 
Sullivan's island we went again to the mansion on Ashley river, 
where I had invitations to hunt, to feast, aud to dance. But no- 
thing could soothe the despondency I felt on the approaching 
return of Mr. Drayton to the woods of Coosohatchie. He guessed 
the cause of my woe-begone looks, and, rather than be deprived 
of my services, politely offered to pass the winter on the banks 
of Ashley river ; nay, he even proposed to send his son, when the 
war terminated, to make with me the tour of the continent of 
Europe. There are few men that in my situation would have 
resisted such allurements ; but 1 dreaded the tainted atmosphere 
that had dispatched so many of my countrymen to the house ap- 
pointed for all living ; and, filled with apprehension, I left this 
charming family in whose bosom 1 had been so kindly cherished, 
to seek another climate, and brave again the rigours of adversity. 

The 15th of December, 1799, I rode from Ashley river to 
Charleston, with the design of proceeding to George- town, and 
visiting the academic bowers of my friend. I had again deter- 
mined to travel, on foot, and enjoy the meditations produced 
from walking and smoking amidst the awful solitude of the 
woods. Having provided myself with a pouch of Havannah 
segars, and put a poem into my pocket, which Mr. George had 
composed over the grave of a stranger on the road, I crossed the 
feny at Cooper's river, and began my journey from a spot that 
retains the aboriginal name of Hobcaw. 

In travelling through an endless tract of pines, a man can find 
few objects to describe, but he may have some reflections to de- 
liver. I was journeying through endless forests, that, once in- 
habited by numerous races of Indians,, were now without any 
individual of their original possessors ; for the diseases and lux- 
uries introduced by the colonists, had exterminated the greater 



IN AMERICA. 



43 



number, and the few wretches that survived, had sought a new 
country beyond the rivers and mountains. 

For the first fifteen miles of my journey, I encountered no 
human being but a way-faring German ; and heard no sound but 
that of the wood-pecker, and the noise of the negroe's axe felling 
trees. There was no other object to employ the sight, and no 
other noise to disturb the repose of the desert. 

I supped and slept at a solitary tavern, kept by young Mr. 
Dubusk, whose three sisters might have sat to a painter for the 
Graces. Finding my young landlord companionable, I asked him 
why he did not pull down the sign of General Washington, that 
was over his door, and put up the portrait of his youngest sister. 
That, said he, would be a want of modesty : and, besides, if Je- 
mima is really handsome, she can want no effigy ; for good wine, 
as we landlords say, requires no bush. We drew our chairs near 
the fire after supper, when Mr. Dubusk did his utmost to enter- 
tain me. He related, that only a few nights before, some sparks 
had put a link into his bed, which, by the moon-light through 
his window, his apprehension magnified into a black snake. And 

is a native of Carolina, afraid of a snake ? said I Not, said he, 

if I meet him on the road, or in the woods. I wish I had as 
many acres of land as I have killed rattlesnakes in this country. 
My plantation would be a wide one. — Mr. Dubusk was some- 
what a wag. Being called on after supper to sing the patriotic 
song of Hail Columbia; he paiod ed it with much drollery. 

HairColuinbia ! happy land ! 
Full of pines, and burning sand ! 

At this I was surprised ; for Hail Columbia exacts not less reve- 
rence in America, than Rule Britannia in England. 

The next morning, Mr. Dubusk walked with me a few miles on 
my road ; but my companion having business at a plantation in 
the woods, I was soon left to pursue my journey alone through 
the sand. My sight was still bounded by the same prospect as 
ever. I could only distinguish before me a road that seemed 
endless, and mossy forests on each border of it. An European 
gazes with wonder at the long and beautiful moss, that, spreading 
itself from the branches of one tree to those of another, extends 
through whole forests*. 

It was now eight in the morning ; the weather was mild, and I 
walked vigorously forward, " chewing the cud of sweet and bitter 
fancy." 

* This moss when it becomes dead serves many useful purposes. The negroes 
carry it to Charleston, where it is bought to stuff mattrasses, and chair- bottoms. The 
hunters always use it for wadding to their guus. 



14 



TRAVELS, &C. 



At Darr's tavern I found nobody but a negro-woman, who was 
suckling her child, and quieting its clamours by appropriating, 
instead of a common rattle, the rattles of a snake. 

As Mr. Darr was gone out, I was glad to obtain a plate 
of mush*, which having eaten, sans milk, sans sugar, and even 
sans molasses, I gave the good woman a piece of silver, and again 
pursued my journey. 

A walk of eight more miles brought me to Owendaw bridge, 
and, taking a small path that led into the woods, I sought for 
the grave of a stranger, of whom tradition has preserved no re- 
membrance; and whose narrow-house I at length discovered 
under a large and stately pine. I suppress the reflections which 
filled my breast on beholding it. Mr. George had anticipated me 
in a poem, which I meditated over the grave, in all the luxury of 
melancholy. 

ELEGY OVER THE GRAVE OF AN UNKNOWN, IN THE WOODS OF 

OWENDAW. 

Now while the sun in ocean rolls the day, 

Pensive I view where yonder trees display 

The lonely heap of earth where here unmourn'd, 

Beneath the pine the stranger lies inurn'd. 

Near these green reeds that shade the passing wave, 

The grass proclaims the long neglected grave, 

Where dark and drear the mossy forests rise, 

And nature hides her form from mortal eyes; 

Where never print of human step is found, 

Nor ever sun-beam cheers the gloomy ground, 

But towering pines the light of heaven preclude, 

And cedars wave in endless solitude; 

Where stretch'd amid the leaves, the branching hind 

Hears the tall cypress murmur to the wind. 

All now unknown, if here this space of dust 

Enclose the ashes of the base or just; 

Nor wept by friendship, nor enroll'd by fame, 

Without a tomb, and e'en without a name. 

So rests amid these over-arching woods, 

Some hapless corse, regardless of the floods, 

Which oft around with angry deluge sweep, 

And roll the wrecks of ages to the deep. 

Those warring passions struggling to be free, 

Those eyes that once the blaze of heaven could see; 

That hand from which, perhaps, the brave retir'd; 

That heart which once the breath of life inspir'd, 

Now shut for ever from the face of day, 

Claim but at last this narrow spot of clay, 

Unhappy dust, no memory remains 

Of what of thee once trod these gloomy plains, 

* Indian meal boiled. 



IN AMERICA. 



45 



Whether some wish, that fires the human breast, 

Of glory, or of wealth, was here supprest; 

Or great, or humble, was thy former lot, 

To all unknown, by all the world forgot! 

But what is friendship, or exalted fame, 

Which time may wound, or Envy's eve may blame? 

Alike the lofty and the low must lie, 

Alike the hero and the slave must die; 

A few short years their names from earth shall sweep, 

Unfelt as drops when mingling with the deep. 

For thee no tomb arrests the passing eye, 

No muse implores the tributary sigh, 

Nor weeping sire shall hither press to mourn, 

Nor frantic spouse invoke thee from thine urn; 

But here unwept, beneath this gloomy pine, 

Eternal nights of solitude are thine. 

So when conflicting clouds, in thunder driven, 

Shake to its base the firmament of heaven, 

Prone on the earth the lofty cedar lies, 

Unseen, and in an unknown valley dies: 

So falls the towering pride of mortal states, 

So perish all the glories of the great. 

In vain with hope to distant realms we run, 

Some bliss to share, or misery to shun. 

In vain the man with narrow bosom flies, 

Where meanness triumphs, and where honour dies; 

And fills the sable bark with sordid ore, 

To swell the pomps that curse a guilty shore; 

Pursu'd by fate through every realm aud sea, 

He falls at last unwept, unknown, like thee. 

Pursuing my journey, in somewhat a dejected mood, I cross- 
ed over Owendaw-bridge, and walked forward at a moderate 
rate. In fact, I regulated my pace by the sun, which was de- 
scending behind me in the woods, and at which I occasionally 
looked back. 

About night-fall I reached Mr. Mac Gregor's tavern, of which 
the proximity was announced by the axe of the negro chopping 
wood. No sound can be more delightful than this to the foot- 
traveller in America, when night has cast its shadows over the 
face of the country. It not only informs him that he is near some 
human habitation ; but associates the welcome image of a warm 
fire-side, and an invigorating supper. 

The house of Mr. Mac Gregor was agreeably situated on the 
river Santee. But it was filled with the planters and young 
women from the neighbouring woods, who had assembled to 
celebrate their Christmas festival ; for it was, I discovered, the 
anniversary of the day that gave birth to our Redeemer. Strange ! 



46 



TRAVELS, &C. 



that I should regard time so little, as not to know, that its inau- 
dible and noiseless feet had stolen through another year. 

The party was, however, taking time by the forelock. They 
had formed a dance, but could not begin it for want of their mu- 
sician, whom they expected with impatience. Hang that Or- 
pheus ! exclaimed one af the young men, who held by the hand a 
little girl of true, virginal beauty, with fair hair floating over her 
shoulders ; curse that Orpheus ! said he ; he has got drunk again, 
and has lost himself in the woods ! Mac Gregor, lend me your 
horn ; I'll go a little way, and blow to him. He snatched up the 
horn, and slipping on his great coat, was about to sally into the 
woods to seek for the lost Orpheus, when the little girl whose 
hand he had let go, anticipating his design, clung fondiy round 
him, and burst into a violent flood of tears. 

Woman ! ail conquering woman ! thou art every where the 
same; and thy empire over man is every where confest. Whe- 
ther in the polished cities of Europe, or among the rude forests 
of America, thou canst practise the same arts, and inspire the 
same tenderness ! 

The ferocity of Jack was softened by the mournful distraction 
of Barbara. It was a ludicrous spectacle. Jack in the towering 
height and breadth of his body, could scarcely, I think, be infe- 
rior to Sampson ; he would have slain with his nervous arm a 
whole host of enemies. Yet here he was killed himself by only 
•ne glance from a virgin eye, that was brimful of tears ; for some 
minutes his speech was suspended, and the giant could only look 
and sigh unutterable things. Oh ! for the chissel of a Praxiteles, 
to represent this tender damsel ; the most seducing object that 
love could employ to extend the limits of his empire. Insensibi- 
lity itself would have fallen at the feet of so sweet a creature. 

At length Jack recovered the use of his faculties. He laid 
down the horn ; and, catching Barbara in his arms, smacked her 
lips with such ardour, that he seemed to be tearing up kisses by 
the roots. 

The girls in company blushed, or held down their heads, but 
the men fell into a roar of such loud and obstinate laughter, that, 
like the peal of Homer's gods, I thought it inextinguishable. 

Mr: Mac Gregor now took the horn, and, going to the door, 
began to blow it with vehemence, and then to exclaim Orpheus ! 
Yo ho ! Orpheus ! Must I come and look for my old snow-ball? 

At length a voice was heard to reply, Who call Orpheus ? That 
Mossa Mac Gregee ? Here Orpheus come ! Here he come him- 
self! 



IN AMERICA. 



47 



It was not long before Orpheus made his appearance, in the 
shape of an old Guinea negro, scraping discord on a fiddle, reel- 
ing about from side to side, and grinning in the pride of hi$ 
heart. 

Each man now seized his partner, Orpheus struck up a jig, and 
down the dance went Jack and Barbara, with light, though un- 
tutored steps. Not being for any of their ambling, and finding 
that amidst such riot no sleep was to be had, I summoned a 
negro, and was paddled in a canoe, through Push-and-go creek, 
to the opposite bank of Santee river. The whip-poor-will, on 
my landing, was heard from the woods ; and, in prosecuting msr 
walk, 1 meditated a sonnet to the bird. 

SONNET TO THE WHIP-POOR-WILL. 
Poor, plaintive bird! whose melancholy lay 
Suits the despondence of my troubled breast, 
I hail thy coming at the close of day, 
When all thy tribe are hush'd in balmy rest. 

Wisely thou shunn'st the gay, tumultuous throng 
Whose mingled voices empty joys denote, 
And for the sober night reserv'st thy song, 
When echo from the woods repeats thy note. 

Pensive, at silent night, I love to roam, 
Where elves and fairies tread the dewy green, 
While the clear moon, beneath the azure dome, 
Sheds a soft lustre o'er the sylvan scene. 

And hear thee tell thy moving tale of woe. 
To the bright empress of the Silver Bow, 

I had now not to walk through woods, but over ground that 
had been cleared by the industry of the husbandman. But I had 
scarce proceeded half a mile, when a party of horsemen, and girls 
double-mounted, came ambling over the plain ; and all seemed 
to ask, with one voice, if the boat was at the ferry, I informed 
them, that I had crossed Santee river in a canoe, which, I be- 
lieved, was at the ferry, but that, far from embarking' their party, 
it would not hold a taird of tbem. 

Then you came, said one of the men, through Push-and-go 
creek ? 

I replied in the affirmative. 

The devil take Mac Gregor, cried he. There are no snakes in 
South Carolina if I am not up to him for this. I hope Orpheus 
has not been able to find his way through the woods ! 

I told them, that if by Orpheus he meant" a drunken negro, 
who scraped upon the fiddle, — he had not only reached the house, 
but put ail the company in motion. 



48 



TRAVELS, &C. 



And now my friends, said 1, let me ask you if there be any 
house on the road where 1 shall be likely to obtain a lodging ? 

Are you for George- town ? said one of the men Yes ! 

Then, rejoined he, it is hard saying ; for there is no house in 
the main-road between this and the Run*; and the run is so 
high, from the freshes, that you will not be able to ford it. We 
did not cross the run ; we live this side of it away there (point- 
ing with his hand), among the back-woods. 

Nothing can give more poignancy to the misfortunes of a tra- 
veller, than for him to repine at them. I therefore walked for- 
ward with a decisive step, aud whistled a merry tune as I brushed 
the dew with my feet. 

In about half an hour, I reached a solitary mud-hut, which 
stood adjoining to a wood. A little smoke rose from the chim- 
ney, but not a mouse was stirring near the dwelling. But from 
the woods was heard the cry of the whip-poor-will, and the 
croaking of the bull-frogs. 

I peeped through a chink in the wall of this lonely hut. I 
could distinguish an old negro-man and negro-woman, huddled 
together, like Darby and Joan, before the embers of an expiring 
fire, and passing from one to another the stump of an old pipe. 
I tapped at the door. Please God Almighty ! said the old woman ; 
who knock at our door this time of night? Why I thought no- 
body was awake but whip-poor-will ! 

Open the door, said the old man, very calmly, 'tis mayhap 
some negur man that has run away, and is now come out of the 
woods to beg a hoe-cake, or a bit of hominy. 

Lack-a-day ! you don't say so, replied the old woman. Some 
poor runaway, without a bit of victuals to keep life and soul to- 
gether. Well ! there's a whole hoe-cake in the platter. That's 
lucky, for true ! 

The old woman came to the door, but, starting back on behold- 
ing me, exclaimed, Hie ! this not negur! This one gentleman! 

Let my page record the hospitality of this poor black woman 
and her husband. They proffered me their provisions, and help- 
ed me to the sweetest draught of water I ever remember to have 
drunk. They proposed to spread a blanket for me before the 
fire, and supply me out of their garments with a pillow for my 
head. In a word, though their faces were black, their hearts 
were not insensible. 

1 could not overcome my prejudices. I felt the fulness of their 
humanity; but, my heart harboured that pride, which courted 

* A stream that crosses a road is called a Run in the southern States. After a 
Leavy rain, the freshes (floods) render these runs for some time impassable. 



IN AMERICA. 



49 



the rigours of the night, rather than descend to become the guest 
of an African slave. I declined their offer with acknowledge 
ments, and prosecuted my walk into the woods. 

1 had walked about three miles, lighted forward by the moon, 
and admonished of the lateness of the hour by the appearance of 
the morning star, when the barking of dogs, and the voices of 
men at a distance, filled me with the hope that I was approaching 
some village. My heart caught new pleasure, and I redoubled 
my pace ; but in a few minutes, instead of entering a village, I 
found myself araon^a crowd of waggons and waggoners, who, 
having their journey Suspended by a run of water which had 
overflowed its banks, were preparing to encamp on the side of 
the road. Of these some were backing their waggons, some un- 
harnessing their cattle, and some kindling a fire. 

On coming to the bank of the stream, I asked a man, who was 
splitting wood, whether there was any canoe to carry travellers 
across the run. 

Indeed, I don't know, said he. 

How is that ? cried another Waggoner, approaching the spot. 
If the stranger is willing to go to the expense of a canoe, I'll hew 
him one out of the stump of a tree in less than half an hour. 1 
have tools in my waggon. 

Sir, replied I, I think it will be more adviseable to tarry here 
till the floods are subsided. But, is there no tavern near here ? 

There is not a grog-shop, said the man, between this and 
George-town. But if you chuse to drink some whiskey, I have 
got a demi-john in my waggon. Come, don't make yourself 
strange because I drive a waggon. 

Sir, said I, it was my anxiety to obtain a lodging that made me 
ask after a tavern ; I did not want liquor. But as you are polite 
enough to welcome me to your jorum of whiskey, 1 shall be 
happy to pledge you. 

The fellow now went to his waggon, and, taking out a small 
demi-john of whiskey, returned to the place where I stood, fol- 
lowed by the whole of his fraternity. Come, said he, here's a 
good market for our tobacco ! And after taking a long draught, 
which called a profound sigh from his lungs, he handed me the 
demi-john, of which having drank, I passed it in succession to 
my neighbour. 

No man is more tenacious of etiquette than I. For two per- 
sons to become acquainted, the laws of good-breeding exact th£ 
introduction of a third. This third person I had now found in 
the demi-john of whiskey, and so without any further ceremony^ 

H 



50 



I accompanied the gentlemen waggoners to their fire, and squat- 
ted myself before the blaze. 

The man whom I had pledged, I very soon discovered to be 
the chief of the gang ; for his mien was more lofty, and his speech 
more imperious than that of the rest. Holla ! Ralph Noggin I 
cried he — Turn the horses out loose with their bells on, that we 
may find them again in the woods. And do you hear, get the 
pig out of the big waggon, that we may barbecue him while there's 
a slow fire. 

, This motion of the waggoner was, I thought, not a bad one ; 
*ny hunger seconded it in secret ; and I began to entertain a 
higher opinion of the company I had got into. 

Having barbecued the pig, each man drew forth his knife, and 
helped himself to a portion. 1 was invited to do the same, but, 
when I had laid hands on a savoury morsel, it was difficult to 
retain it, for a dog, that accompanied the waggons, placed him- 
self before me in a menacing attitude, and every time I put a 
piece of meat into my mouth, the cur gnashed his teeth, and re- 
buked me with an angry bark. At length, I was relieved from 
the importunities of the dog, by the politeness of a waggoner, 
who, snatching up his whip, cracked it over the dog's back with 
such violence, that the animal slunk his tail between his hind 
legs, and ran howling into the woods with a most tragical tone; 
a tone that suspended for some minutes the bellowing of the bull- 
frogs, and the cry of the whip-poor-will. 

My companions having satisfied their hunger, they soon fell 
asleep ; and it was not very long before I followed the example. 
My bed was composed of leaves, and I had no other canopy but 
the skies ; but, in two watchful voyages to the East-Indies, 1 had 
often snored on the hard deck, and repose in the open air was 
a thing I had been used to. 

About sun-rise I awoke, refreshed beyond measure with three 
hours sound sleep. Some of my companions were awake, but 
others were yet snoring. At length, they all rose and shook 
themselves, and the chief of the party had expressed it to be hi* 
opinion, that the run would not go down before noon. 

About noon the water went down, and my companions, who 
had previously harnessed their cattle, crossed without any obsta- 
cle to the opposite bank. I followed on a led horse, which they 
did not judge prudent to fasten to a waggon, and which took me 
over.in safety. I then dismounted, and, having shaken each of 
the party by the hand, pursued my journey on foot. The sun, 
which in the early part of the morning had been obscured, now 



IN AMERICA. 



5i 



/'-gladdened the plains ; and, a& I journeyed onward, I sent forth in 
\ concert with the creation a prayer to that Universal Lord, at 
^ whose altar of praise and thansgiving, all religions, though by 
r different paths, assemble ; and ultimately unite in one centre of 
L adoration. 

A walk of ten miles brought me within sight of George-town, 
Which exhibited an agreeable coup <Toeil, as 1 approached the 
bank of Sampit river. The opening of Waccamaw bay, at the 
confluence of Sampit, Black, and Pedee rivers, brought to my 
mind the happy description which my friend Mr. George had 
given the world of it ; who is not less exact than felicitous in the 
combination of his images. 

" H^re as you enter from (he winding wood, 
The wand'ring eye beholds the confluent flood, 
Where the wide waves of Waccamaw o'erflow, 
And gloomy wflds an endless prospect shew : 
Where roll the placid streams from Sampit's source, 
And Wwyaws waves with slow meanders course, 
Throvgh many a tainted marsh and gloomy wood, 
The dark abodes of dreary solitude/' 

1 felt no little exultation in reflecting that it was the author of 
this description, whom I was about to visit ; that he expected 
with solicitude my coming, and that I should be received by him 
with transports. I crossed the river Sampit in the ferry-boat, 
and rejoiced to find myself in the company of my friend. But I 
did not find him at his studies. Mr. George was neither com- 
posing the Mceonian verse, the plaintive elegy, nor soothing son- 
net. In profane prose, he was at dinner, and such was the un- 
classical condition of my appetite from a walk of fourteen miles, 
that a welcome to a turkey and chine was greater music to my 
ear, than the softest verses my friend could have produced from 
his invocations of the morning. 

It is only those who know what friendship is, that can form a 
just estimate of the happiness I enjoyed in the company of Mr. 
George. In a public party he was somewhat reserved ; but in the 
, unrestrained interchange of his mind with a friend, no man could 
be more pleasant. 

The old lady at the boarding-house informed me, that she 
hardly knew what to make of Mr. George ; sometimes he would 
be sociable, and chat round the parlour fire with the rest of her 
boarders ; but that oftener he shut himself up in his chamber, 
wandered alone in the woods, and was overheard talking to him- 
self. Alas ! for the simplicity of the woman ! She little knew the 
enjoyments of a cultivated mind, or the delight a poet felt in 



52 



TRAVELS, &C. 



courting the silence of solitude, and muttering his wayward fan- 
cies, as he roved through the fields. 

It, however, appeared to me, that Mr. George was not so ena- * 
moured of the muses, but that he had an eye for a fair creature, 
who lived within a few doors of his lodgings. He manifested, I 
thought, strong symptoms of being in love. 

The academy at George-town, is under the direction of Mr. 
Spierin, an Irish clergyman of the episcopal persuasion ; a man 
profoundly versed in the languages of Greece and Rome, not un- 
conversant with the delicacies of the English, and a powerful 
preacher. 

During my visit to George-town, the melancholy tidings were 
brought of the death of General Washington. The inhabitants of 
the town were crowding to the ball-room at the moment the cou- 
rier brought the dispatch. But the death of so great a man, con- 
verted their hilarity into sorrow; the eye of many a female, 
which, but a moment before had sparkled with pleasure, was now 
brimful of tears ; and they all cast off their garments of gladness, 
and clothed themselves with sackcloth. 

The following Sunday, the men, women, and children, testi- 
fied their veneration for the father of their country, by walking 
in procession to the church, where Mr. Spierin delivered a fu- 
neral oration. Never was there a discourse more moving. Tears 
flowed from every eye ; and lamentations burst from every lip. 

1 look back with pleasure and satisfaction on the time I passed 
with my friend, at the confluence of the rivers Waccamaw and 
Winy aw. Our conversation was commonly on the writers of the 
Augustan age, and I corrected many errors I had imbibed by so- 
litary study. The taste of Mr. George had been formed on the 
polished models of antiquity; lo these he always recurred as to 
the standards of elegant composition. It is recorded, I believe, 
of Euler, that he could repeat the whole of the yEneid by heart; 
but the memory of Mr. George had not only digested the iEneid, 
but also the Georgics and Eclogues. 

But the moment was approaching that called me to another 
climate. I found a schooner lying at the wharfs of George-town, 
that was bound to New York, and thither I had formed the reso- 
lution of going. To this resolution I was particularly determined 
by the projects of Mr. George; who, disgusted with the society at 

George-town the eternal discourse of the inhabitants about 

their negroes and cotton -fields ; and the innovations of the trus- 
tees on his mode of tuition, had come to the determination of 
seeking another people, and opening a school of his own. 

When 1, therefore, waved my hand on board the vessel to my 



IN AMERICA. 



53 



friend, who stood on the wharf with the calm inhabitants of Wac- 
camaw, my heart was rather elated with joy at the expectation of 
soon meeting him at New York, than depressed with sorrowful 
emotions to separate from him at George-town. 

Heaven prosper you, my dear fellow, said Mr. George. But 
your impending gales of wind, and rolling of the vessel, will ex- 
cite little sympathy, because I shall reflect you are again in your 
own element. Yet shall I never cease exclaiming, " Sic te diva 
potens Cypri," &c. till you give me a missive that acquaints me 
with your safe landing. Adieu! I will soon shake you by the 
hand again in a region less unhealthy, less inhospitable, and less 
un classical. 

The sails of the vessel were now distended by a breeze that 
was both favourable and fresh. We shaped our course out of the 
harbour ; the waves roared around the bark ; and in half an hour, 
she appeared to the eye of the beholder from land, a white speck 
only on the ocean. The wind changed off cape Hatterass to the 
north-east, from which quarter it blew a tremendous gale. We 
lay-to in a most miserable condition, wet, sick, and unable to 
cook any food. I now sighed for Coosohatchie, the company of 
my pupils, and my walks in the woods ; but my ambition of travel 
struggled over my weakness, and I sought refuge in jollity with 
•nry portly companion. 

The next morning, the sun shone down the sky-light into the 
cabin. The gale having abated, we prosecuted our voyage, and 
on the morning of the 5th of February 1800, saw the high land of 
the Jerseys. As the day advanced, we could distinguish the 
light-house on Sandy-Hook, and with a pleasant breeze were 
wafted to the wharfs of New York. 



CHAP. V. 

Engagements at Neiv York. An American Author. Mr. George 
arrives at Neiv York. Epistolary Correspondence. A Visit to 
Long Island. Journey to the City of Washington. 

MY first care on returning to New York, was to deliver a letter I 
had been favoured with from Mr. Spierin, to his friend bishop 
Moore. I waited on the bishop most opportunely, for the pre- 
ceding day he had been applied to by an opulent merchant to 
procure a tutor for his children, and 1 was a tutor by trade. 
The bishop introduced me to Mr. Ludlow and his lady, who 



54 



TRAVELS, &C. 



received me with some formality ; but whose conversation I 
thought interesting, because they offered me a handsome salary 
to educate their children. In the woods of Carolina, I had re- 
ceived eighty guineas a year; but Mr. Ludlow proposed a hun- 
dred. 

I therefore exchanged my lodgings with Major Howe, for an 
elegant structure in Broad Way, and took possession of a cham- 
ber that was worthy to lodge a prince. My pupils were few for 
the salary I enjoyed, being only three boys, Robert, Ferdinand, 
and Edward. 

I pass over common occurrences to embrace again Mr. George, 
who had left the academy at George-town, and, like a true poet, 
was without a settled habitation. I procured him lodgings under 
the roof of Major Howe : and, the better to enjoy a freedom 
from interruption, I took my friend to King's little tavern, near 
the Presbyterian church, where we chatted and laughed till mid- 
night. 

1 introduced Mr. George to Col. Burr, whom I had not neglect- 
ed ; and I also presented him to bishop Moore, who had procured 
me a salary of a hundred guineas. I have ever felt the highest 
veneration for the dignified office of prelate. There are many of 
different feelings. But as the English soldier detested a French- 
man because he wore wooden shoes ; so many cannot endure a 
bishop, because he wears lawn sleeves. 

It was the custom of Mr. Ludlow every summer to exchange 
the tumult of the city, for the quiet of his rural retreat ; or, in 
other words, to remove his family from New York, to a place 
called West Chester. But knowing that Mr. George was in some 
solicitude for his future support, and being myself engaged by 
Caritat, on liberal terms, to compile a volume of modern poetry*, 
I presented my friend to the family, extolled the multiplicity of 
his attainments, and resigned to him my place. In truth I was 
weary of setting boys their copies, and 1 wanted some remission 
to my fatigue. 

Mr. George a few days after followed the family into their re- 
treat, which he has described, together with the state of his own 
feelings, in a familiar epistle. 

" No prospect can be more enchanting than that from our 

* This volume of modern poetry was to be a royal octavo, of one thousand pages. It 
was to contain all the poems of all the modern poets. Caritat made a voyage to Eng- 
land with no other purpose than to collect all their works. He bought up all the modern 
poetry that London could furnish ; and when I say this, I need not observe, that the 
ship which contained his cargo drew a great depth of water. The pumps were kept 
Constantly going. 



IN AMERICA. 



55 



mansion. Two tufted islands at a distance, leave a vista between 
them, through which gleam the turrets of New York, rising like 
a new creation from the sea. 

" But my time rolls heavily along. Let casuists reason as they 
will ; a vigorous mind can derive no satisfaction from retirement. 
It is only on the great theatre of the world that we can be sensi- 
ble of the pleasures of existence. The solitary mind is its own 
sepulchre; and where variety is 'unknown, or the passions are 
suppressed, the noblest energies are lost for want of objects. 

" 1 have again read over your epistles from Coosohatchie, and 
am now travelling with you through the swamps of Pocotaligo, 
and the woods of Asheepoo. There is certainly a pleasure in re- 
tracing our former footsteps, and pursuing our adventures through 
the wilds of Carolina. I can now behold you sitting with the 
driver on the front seat, and smoking your segar, while the soli- 
tary vehicle rolls slowly through the forests. 

" Women know not what to be at. This evening they were 
contending who should first take the telescope to look at the full 
moon, which arose from the distant hills with unusual beauty. 
The telescope was brought, and 1 shewed each lady in regular 
succession, the polar hemisphere, together with the constellations, 
of Arcturus and Orion ; repeating at the same time their descrip- 
tion from the eighteenth Iliad. 

** I went down to the Sound to swim awhile ago, and, during 
my stay in the water, some fellow threw in my shirt; so I came 
up like one of Falstaffs men. This lamentable accident brought 
the servants about me ; and the gardener's wife made no scruple 
to lend me one of her husband's shirts. 

" I knew not when I entered on the office of tutor in this fa- 
mily, that one part of my duty would be, to teach my pupils to 
swim. Is not this a work of supererogation ? However, I never 
fail to duck most fervently, these enemies to silence and reflec- 
tion. " 

Some symptoms of the yellow fever appearing in New York, 
spread universal consternation ; and the subscribers to the volume 
of modern poetry not coming in crowds with their snbscriptiun- 
money, the compilation of it was postponed. Being now without 
any determined employment, I had nothing to detain me in the 
town; and transporting my books and baggage over to Long 
island, I was fortunate enough to procure lodgings at Newtown, 
under the roof of the episcopal minister, Mr. Vandyke. He was 
a garrulous valetudinary old creature, who would have been ex- 
cellent company for the elders that viewed the Grecian forces 
from the battlements of Troy. 



56 



TRAVELS, &C 



The parsonage-house was not unpleasantly situated. The 
porch was shaded by a couple of huge locust-trees, and accom- 
modated with a long bench. Here I often sat with my host, who, 
like parson Adams, always wore his cassoc ; but he did not read 
iEschylus. Alas ! the old gentleman was not descended from the 
family of the Medici ; nor would learning have ever been indebt- 
ed to him for its revival. 

Mr. Vandyke was at least sixty ; yet if a colt, a pig, or any 
other quadruped entered his paddock, he sprang from his seat 
with more than youthful agility, and vociferously chased the in- 
truder from his domain. I could not but smile to behold him 
running after a pig, and mingling his cries with those of the 
animal I 

It would be ungrateful were I not to enumerate the friends I 

found in Long island. Mr. Titus, who lived on a creek that 

communicated, with the Sound, both feasted and caressed me; he 
was a worthy old gentleman ; and at his house, as in the days be- 
fore the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giv- 
ing in marriage. 

Farmer Moore, brother to bishop Moore, of New York, always- 
entertained me with a hearty welcome. Every one acknowledged 
his daughter was charming : 

" A maiden never bold; 
Of spirit so st i II and quiet, that her motion 
Blush'd at itself." 

Indeed the manners of the whole family were worthy of the 
golden age. 

Mr. Remsen, who lived with more magnificence on the river- 
side, opposite Flushing, gave me sumptuous dinners, and Madeira, 
after each repast. His lady was not without elegance ; but his 
two daughters were lovely. 

Nor in enumerating the belles of Newtown, ought I to omit 
Mrs. Dungan, and Miss Townshend. 

From Mr. Remsen's dwelling on the water-side, the mansion 
of Mr. Ludlow could be clearly distinguished, lifting its proud 
turrets above the shore in West Chester. I had been invited, 
both by the family and my friend to visit the " new house;" and 
having, on a serene day, dined with Mr. Remsen, I w r as paddled 
in a canoe from his landing-place to the opposite shore. 

The little boys shouted with joy as the canoe approached their 
wharf, and George, abandoning a poem he was composing, flew 
to my embrace. 

I was ushered into the parlour. Every thing breathed splen- 
dour. A turkey carpet covered the floor, and the richest sopha* 



IN AMERICA. 



57 



invited repose. Negus was served up in a golden cup, by a servant 
clad in a magnificent livery ; and every fruit of the season was 
placed on the side-board. The room was soon filled by the fa- 
mily, all eager to receive me and do the honours of the house. 

I could not but be delighted with the joy expressed by the ' 
children ; they either clung round my knees, or ran to bring the 
letters I had written them, that I might perceive with what care 
they had preserved my epistles. 

After continuing three days with my friend, he accompanied 
me from West Chester, in a passage-boat to New York. 

At New York, we experienced an oblivion of care at King's 
little tavern, next to the presbyterian church 3 which, from the jol- 
lity that resounded in every room on a Sunday, brought to recol- 
lection the proverb, that " the nearer to church the further from 
heaven." Here, however, we smoked segars, and forgot we were 
tutors. 

The following day, I prevailed on Mr. George to visit New- 
town, and I introduced him to my friends. We dined with Mr. 
Remsen, from whose house he departed for West Chester in a 
canoe. I awaited in the piazza the return of the canoe, chatting 
most delectably with Miss Eliza Remsen, over a cup of tea 
administered by her fair hands. The canoe returned, and brought 
me a note from my friend. 

" I, thank God, found none of the family at home on my ar- 
rival ; so I can walk about the house without feeling my depend- 
ance." 

Mr. George only remained with Mr. Ludlow till his quarter 
expired, when it was concerted by every party, that 1 should re- 
sume the place. But he was not long unemployed ; for the in- 
habitants of Newtown, being in want of a teacher, converted a 
spare dwelling into a school, and engaged my friend on liberal 
terms to educate their children. 

Mr. George was now in Long Island, and I had received a very 
polite letter from Mrs. Ludlow, who entreated me to hasten my 
return to her family. I obeyed her orders with alacrity. 

I therefore drove Mr. George in a chair to the water-side, and 
at the house of Mr. Berian, hired a canoe to cross the Sound, 
After an hour's rowing, the boatman reached West Chester, and 
landed me at Mr. Ludlow's. Of the family the children were 
only at home, who received me with every demonstration of joy ; 
but not long after, Mrs. Ludlow returned in her chariot, whose 
elegant and conciliating manners soon reconciled me to my si- 
tuation. 

I sent my friend his trunks by the return of the canoe, and a 

1 



5S 



TRAVELS, &C. 



short note produced from the impulse of the moment. In a fe\f 
days I was favoured with an epistle from Mr. George. 

" After your departure from Berian's in the canoe, I resumed 
my station with the old fellow on the porch ; here I awaited with 
impatience the return of the boat with my trunk. Berian I found 
to be a plain, honest, sensible, old navigator, and 1 drank tea 
with him. 

" At night-fall the boat returned with my trunk and a letter 
from my beloved companion in adversity ; it is only by the ab- 
sence of persons that are dear to us, that we can estimate truly 
their value ; and I now began sensibly to feel the privation of 
your company. I left Berian's at seven; the night was very 
dark, and the moon (though considerably above the horizon) 
was entirely obscured by clouds. I was in no small danger of 
breaking my neck over the rocks which obstructed my passage, 
but my horse not being of a disposition to run away with his bur- 
den, I escaped the danger of an overthrow. After opening and 
shutting several gates that impeded my journey, and passing over 
many rocky hills, I descended to the shore, of which the wave3 
were covered by a thick mist, that obscured their agitation, and 
rendered their fury more awful ; the tide had usurped much of 
the road, and the left wheel of the chair rolled through the water. 
Hence, after travelling along " the beached verge of the salt 
flood," I ascended a high hill, and turning into a different road 
from that through which you were my companion, I drove into 
a thick spreading wood of oak : here I was fearful of entirely losing 
my way through the trees ; but the clouds dispersed, and the 
moon arose to light me on my journey. At nine I reached the 
parson's, where I found the family peaceably occupied with their 
needles ; they received me with kindness, but the rustic silence 
which prevailed among them, and the tedious reverberations of 
the clock, compelled me to retire to my room, where I indulged 
myself in uninterrupted reflection, and in pondering over your 
curious epistle." 

A few days afterwards I received a second letter from Mr. 
George. 

" In this out-of-the-world village, I live neither pleasing, nor 
pleased; for a rustic cannot receive much gratification from the 
society of a man of letters ; and surely the man of letters cannot 
derive any pleasure from the company of a rustic. It is only by 
a collision of minds of the same tendency, that inquietude can 
be soothed, and the intellect invigorated." 

" My condition is, however, more tolerable than it was. Here 
I have 320 mincinsr imperatrix to say to me, ' Mr. George, my 



IN AMERICA. 



59 



children do nothing, I must insist, Sir, you will be more atten- 
tive to Bobby and Neddy.' Deo Gratias ! O thou eater of broken 
meats ! Thou lilly-livered, supper-serviceable rogue of a tutor ! 
Avaunt ! 

" I was lately at New York. But I went not to pay my re 
spects to members of congress, but with the hope of encounter- 
ing the friend of my heart, and the companion of my adversity. 

" I slept at Howe's, and during the night was perpetually an- 
noyed with the cry of fire! fire! As the noise increased, I arose 
with not less trepidation than iEneas, when he ascended to the 
top of old Anchises' palace : 

" Et jam proximus ardet 
Ucalegon." 

" But here, as in all modern conflagrations, (whether real or 
poetic), there was more smoke than fire, and more-consternation 
than danger; so I slunk again to slumber, from which not even 
the ghost of Hector could have awakened me. 

(i Shall you exchange soon the dull walks of West Chester, for 
the animated streets of New York ? Come over, I beseech you, 
and enable me once more to exclaim with rapture. Vixi." 

With the first frost, the family of Mr. Ludlow removed from 
the solitude of West Chester, to the gaieties of New York ; and I 
again took possession of a room boasting every convenience of 
accommodation, where I could prosecute, without disturbance, 
my luciihrations till a late hour. The library of Caritat supplied 
me with every book in the French and my own idiom ; and be- 
fore a cheerful fire, I could pass nights of rapture in the acquisi- 
sition of elegant and useful knowledge. The emoluments I had 
derived from the publication of a little novel, induced me to un- 
dertake another, which I was resolved to make more voluminous; 
for Americans expect quantity in a book not less eagerly than in 
other bargains. 

But the time was approaching, when I had every reason to 
flatter my expectation with exchanging the muses' bower for the 
garden of the Hesperides. Colonel Burr had been elected to the 
place of Vice-President of the United States, and Colonel Bun- 
was my friend. He had just returned from the city of Washing- 
ton, and with the most condescending urbanity, did me the ho- 
nour to call on me at Mr. Ludlow's Col. Burr observed, that 
" Mr. Gallatin having expressed a desire to procure a secretary 
who was skilled in composition, he had recommended me as a 
person qualified to undertake the office, and was happy to have 
it in his power to acknowledge by any service, the sensible plea- 
sure lie had received from my literary productions." 



60 



TRAVELS, &C. 



My pupils could be hardly persuaded I was about to leave them, 
till I bade them farewell ; they shed many tears ; but their grief, 
however violent, was of transient duration ; for before I had 
walked half way down the street, 1 beheld them return to their 
ball-playing with more alacrity than ever. 

I journeyed delightfully from New York to Philadelphia, and 
thence to Washington. My finances were good, and 1 was going 
to a place where I had only to extend my arms and catch the 
golden shower. Let the gloomy moralist insist on the position, 
that life is rather to be endured than enjoyed ; but hope itself is 
happiness, and he who has the knack of practising it, cannot be 
long a victim to melancholy, though he find himself cheated daily 
by new disappointments. 

I travelled in the coach, and was put down, with another pas- 
senger, to stop the night, at a tavern, built on a bank of the 
river Susquehannah. It was delightfully situated, commanding 
the prospect of Chesapeak bay, and the little town of Havre de 
Grace, The accommodations at the tavern were elegant, and 
a mulatto girl waited at supper, whose beauty entitled her to a 
better office than that of brushing away flies from the guests with 
a peacock's feather. 

I repined at being waked before it was light by the horn of the 
driver; but I was repaid for the disturbance of my morning 
slumbers by the spectacle of the rising sun. His first rays gilded 
the herbage, yet humid with the dews of night ; and the carol of 
the mocking-bird, though faint, sainted the return of day. 

We prosecuted our journey to Baltimore in charming spirits; 
a happy constitution of temper made every place alike to my com- 
panion ; and his advance in years seemed only to have brought 
with them a higher relish for life. 

The next morning I resumed my journey for the city of Wash- 
ington, passing in my way thither, through no place of any note, 
unless it be a little town called Bladensburgh, built on the water 
of the eastern branch of the Potomac. 

1 obtained accommodations at the Washington tavern, which 
stands o posite the treasury. At this tavern I took my meals at 
the public table, where there was every day to be found a num- 
ber of clerks, employed at the diffcreut offices under Govern- 
ment ; together with about half a dozen Virginians, and a few 
New England men. 

Bear witness, ye powers, with what visions of greatness I feast- 
ed my imagination, as I walked from the tavern to the treasury. - 
Mr. Gallatin heard the object of my mission with patience ; 
when he with the utmost composure observed, that " the orga- 



IN AMERICA. 



01 



nization of the offices in the treasury, under the preceding admi- 
nistration, had been too complicated, and that far from having 
any place to give away, the employments of inferior diplomatic 
agency were yet to be diminished. Yet he was sorry, very sorry, 
I should travel so far to encounter disappointment." 

I replied, that I had not travelled to no purpose, for I had not 
only seen the city of Washington, but also Mr. Gallatin ; and 
making him a very low bow, I again walked down the treasury 
stairs ! 

Finding a schooner at George-town ready to sail for Alexan- 
dria, I put my trunk on board of her, and left without regret the 
imperial city. - 

The wind being contrary, we had to work down the Potomac, 
The river here is very beautiful. Mason's island forms one 
continued garden ; but what particularly catches the eye is the 
Capitol, rising with sacred majesty above the woods. 

Our beat turned well to windward, and in an hour we landed, 
at the widow Bull's house, which may be considered half-way to 
Alexandria. Here having quaffed and smoked together under 
the shade of a spreading locust tree, we once more committed 
ourselves to the waters of the Potomac. 

In approaching Alexandria, we passed a house on our right, 
in which the Paphian goddess had erected an altar, Some dam- 
sels were bathing before the door, who practised every allure- 
ment to make us land ; but we treated their invitations with the 
insolence of contempt. Oh ! modesty ! what charms does a 
woman lose when she renounces thee. 

It was easier landing at Alexandria in America, than Alexan- 
dria in Egypt; and I found elegant accommodations at Gadesby's, 
hotel. It is observable that Gadesby keeps the best house of en- 
tertainment in the United States. 

It was the middle of July when I landed at Alexandria, and 
the heat was excessive. The acrimony of the bilious humours 
was consequently excited, and the diarrhoea and dysentery pre- 
vailed among the inhabitants ; yet the taverns were frequented, 
for Americans, to preserve health, adopt the Brownonian system, 
of keeping up the excitement. 

The splendour of Gadesby's hotel not suiting my finances, I 
removed to a public house kept by a Dutchman, whose Frow was 
a curious creature. 

To what slight causes does a man owe some of the principal 
events of his life. I had been a fortnight at Alexandria, when, 
in consequence of a short advertisement I had put in the gazette, 
a gentleman was deputed to wait on me from a quaker, on the 



62 



TRAVELS, &C 



banks of the Occoquan, who wanted a tutor for his children. He 
expressed the earnest desire Mr. Ellicott had to engage me in his 
family, and lavished his eloquence on the romantic beauties of 
the river Occoquan, and the stupendous mountains that nodded 
over its banks. 

The following evening I left Alexandria on horseback, to visit 
the abode of Mr. Ellicott. But 1 had scarce ridden a couple of 
miles, when a violent storm of rain overtook me, and I sought 
shelter in a shop by the way-side. 

It was six o'clock before the rain subsided, and I was in sus- 
pense whether to return to Alexandria, or prosecute my journey, 
when my host informed me, that only two miles further lived a 
very honest farmer, who accommodated travellers with a bed. 
His name was Violet. 

1 pursued my journey, but, after riding two miles, instead of 
reaching the farm of Mr. Violet, my horse stopped before the 
door of a log-house, built on the brow of a hill. The man of the 
house was sitting under an awning of dried boughs, smoking in 
silence his pipe ; and his wife occupied a chair by his side, warb- 
ling her lyrics over the circling wheel. 

The sky now indicated there was no time to be lost. I there- 
fore put spurs to my nag, and departed at a gallop. It was not 
quite twilight, and my situation brought to my recollection a pas- 
sage in the poet of nature. 

" The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: 
Now spurs the lated traveller apace, 
To gain the timely inn. 

But I had scarce proceeded a mile when a storm of rain, light- 
ning, and thunder, gave me some solicitude for my night's lodg- 
ing ; I could perceive no house ; and the only alternative left, 
was to scour along the road, while the tempest howled wildly 
from the woods on both sides. 

At length, I descried a light, which I flattered myself blazed 
from the window of Mr. Violet's house ; but instead of dismount- 
ing at the portico of a mansion that vied in magnificence with 
Gadesby's hotel, I found myself before the door of a miserable 
log-house. 

The log-house was not empty. A mulatto girl of seventeen, 
was sitting in one corner in dalliance with a white youth of about 
thirty- five, who discovered no confusion at my unexpected en- 
trance. But the olive dulcinea was less confident in her aspect, 
and played the woman to perfection. One while she endeavour- 
ed to conceal her face from view, another, she repulsed the ca- 



IN AMERICA. 



63 



resses of her lover, and anon she clung to him as if seeking his 
protection. 

After a short stay, I mounted my horse, and no longer inter- 
rupted their innocent amour. The tempest was over, a beautiful 
night succeeded ; and the moon with unusual lustre lighted me 
on my way. As I looked towards the silver orb, I exclaimed in 
the words of the most pathetic of writers, 

w For me ! pale eye of evening! thy soft light 
Leads to no happy home! " 

But I was waked from my musing by the barking of the dogs at 
Colchester, and having crossed the bridge which is built over the 
Occoquan, I alighted at the door of Mr. Gordon's tavern. 

Having ordered supper, I gazed with rapture on the Occoquan 
river, which ran close to the house, and, gradually enlarging, 
emptied itself into the capacious bosom of the Potomac. The 
fishermen on the shore were hauling their seine, and the sails of 
a little bark, stemming the waves, were distended by the breeze 
of night. The sea-boy was lolling over the bow, and the helms- 
man was warbling a song to his absent fair. 

The next day I proceeded to Occoquan ; but so steep and 
craggy was the road, that I found it almost inaccessible. On 
descending the last hill, 1 was nearly stunned by the noise of two 
huge mills, whose roar, without any hyperbolical aggravation, is 
scarcely inferior to that of the great falls of the Potomac, or the 
cataract of Niagara. My horse would not advance, and I was 
myself lost in astonishment. 

On crossing a little bridge, I came within view of the settle- 
ment, which is romantic beyond conception. A beautiful river 
rolls its stream along mountains that rise abruptly from its bank, 
while on the opposite rocky shore, which appears to have been 
formed by a volcano, are seen two mills enveloped in foam, and 
here and there a dwelling which has vast masses of stone for its 
foundation. The eye for some time is arrested by the uncotrw 
mon scene; but it is soon relieved by a beautiful landscape that 
bounds the horizon. In a word, all the riches of nature are 
brought together in this spot, but without confusion , 

Mr. Ellicott and his wife received me with an unaffected sim- 
plicity of manners, whom I was happy to catch just as they were 
going to dinner. x\n exquisite Virginia ham smoked on the board, 
and two damsels supplied the guests with boiled Indian corn, 

which they had gathered with their own hands Friend Ellicott, 

uncorrupted by the refinement of modern maimers, had put his 
hat to its right use, for it covered his head. It was to no pur- 
pose that I bent my bodv, and made a hundred grimaces. Mor- 



64 



TRAVELS, &C. 



decai would not bow to Hamen, nor would friend Ellicott un- 
cover his head to the Cham of Tartary. 

Our agreement was soon made. Quakers are men of few 
words. Friend Ellicott engaged me to educate his children for 
a quarter of a year. He wanted them taught reading, writing, 
and arithmetic. Delightful task ! As to Latin, or French, he 
considered the study of either language an abuse of time \ and 
very calmly desired me not to say another word about it. 



CHAP. VI. 

Memoir of my Life on the hanks of the Occoquan. Description of 
Occoqnan Settlement. Evening at Occoquan, an Ode. Morn- 
ing at Occoquan, an Ode. A Party of Indians visit Occoquan. 
Speech of a Warrior. A War -dance, and scene of riotous In- 
toxication. A Disquisition of the Moral Character of the 
Indians. Story of Captain Smith and Pocahontas. The Dis- 
pute between JBuffbn and Jefferson on the subject of JBewds 
satisfactorily decided. The Midnight Orgies of the White 
Man of America dramatized, Sfc. 

Lo ! the moon its lustre lends, 
Gilding ev'ry wood and lawn; 
And the miller's heart distends 
On the banks of Occoquan! 

IN the Bull-Run Mountains rises a river, which retains the In- 
dian name of Occoquan, and after a course of sixty miles, falls 
into the Potomac, near the little town of Colchester. In Ame- 
rica, there are few or no rivers without falls ; and at those of 
Occoquan, are erected a couple of mills, which by the easy and 
safe navigation of the Potomac, the richness of the adjacent 
country, and the healthfullness of the climate, induced the pro- 
prietor to project the plan of a city, and invite strangers to build 
on it 5 but his visions were never realized, and Occoquan consists 
only of a house built on a rock, three others on the river-side, 
and half a dozen log-huts scattered at some distance. 

Yet no place can be more romantic than the view of Occoquan 
to a stranger, after crossing the rustic bridge, which has been 
constructed by the inhabitants across its stream. He contem- 
plates a river urging its course along mountains that lose them- 
selves among the clouds; he beholds vessels taking on board 
flour under the foam of the mills, and others deeply laden expaud- 



IN AMERICA. 



65 



ing their sails to the breeze ; while every face wears contentment, 
every gale wafts health, and echo from the rocks multiplies the 
voices of the waggoners calling to their teams. 

It is pleasant, says Juvenal, to be master of a house, though it 
stand not on more ground than a lizard would occupy. The 
school- house at Occoquan was entirely my own. It was a little 
brick structure, situated about three hundred yards from the 
house on the rock. The front casements looked upon the Occo- 
quan river, and cammanded the variegated prospect of hill and 
dale. 

It is so seldom an author gets a house, that it should ex- 
cite no wonder if he loves to describe it. Pliny has described his 
house so minutely in one of his elaborate epistles, that he appears 
to be putting it up for sale; and Pope luxuriates in the strain that 
treats of his thickets being pierced, his grotto entered, his cha- 
riot stopped, and his barge boarded ; that posterity may not be 
ignorant of the extent of his possessions. 

I mingled seldom with the people of Occoquan, but, shut up 
in my profound habitation, sought an oblivion of care in writing, 
reading, and tobacco. Often when the moonlight slept upon the 
mountain near my dwelling, have I walked before rny door, and 
gazed in silent rapture on the orb of night, whose beams trem- 
bled on the stream that gave motion to the mill ; while the tall 
bark was seen dancing on the waves at a distance, and the mock- 
ing-bird in a saddened strain was heard from the woods. It was 
during one of these nights, that, recalling the images of the even- 
ing, I combined them in an ode : 

EVENING AT OCCOQUAN.— AN ODE. 

Slow the solemn sun descends, 
Ev'ning's eye comes rolling on; 
Glad the weary stranger bends 
To the banks of Occoquan! 

Now the cricket on the hearth, 
Chirping, tells his merry tale; 
Now the owlet ventures forth, 
Moping to the sigliing gale. 

Still the busy mill goes round, 
While the miller plies his care; 
And the rocks send back the sound, 
Wafted by the balmy air. 

Lo! the moon with lustre bright, 
In the stream beholds her face; 
Shedding glory o'er the night, 
As she runs her lofty race, 
K 



66 



TRAVELS, &C. 



See ! the bark along the shore, 
Larger to the prospect grow; 
While the sea-bo^ bending o'er, 
Chides the talking waves below. 

Now the mocking songster's strain 
Fills the pauses oi her brood; 
And her plaints the ear detain, 
Echoing from the distant wood. 

Hanging o'er the mountain's brow, 
Lo ! the cattle herbage find; 
While in slumber sweet below, 
Peaceful rests the village hind. 

Now the student scks his cell, 
Nor regrets the day is gone; 
But with silence loves to dwell. 
On the bauks of Occoquan ! 

I was never one of those who sleep well at night. All hours 
are of equal value, and the tranquillity of the night invites to 
study. Hence, 1 have been frequently compelled to change my 
lodgings where the good woman of the house was in fear that 
her curtains might catch fire, and set the dwelling in a blaze. 

But the houses in Virginia are not very superb. The people 
were never under any solicitude for the habitation I occupied; 
and had it been burnt to the ground, a few boards and a propor- 
tionate number of shingles would soon have constructed another. 
I never yet occupied a house that was not exempt from taxes ; it 
was always valued by the tax-gatherers below a hundred dollars 
(about 20/ sterling), and, by an act of Assembly, for a house not 
worth a hundred dollars there is no tax to pay. 

From the platform of my house at Occoquan, there was a sub- 
terraneous passage which led to a kind of kitchen. In this under- 
ground apartment dwelt Rachel, a negro-woman, who was left a 
widow with eleven children; but her numerous offspring were all 
provided for. Mr. Carter, to whom the whole family belonged, 
had taken upon him this benevolent office; for he had sold one 
to Mr. A, another to Mr. B, a third to Mr. C, a fourth to Mr. D, 
and so on, nearly half round the alphabet. 

The student who values his health will practise study and ex- 
ercise alternately. After reading a scene in Hamlet, 1 took a 
few strides across the room, and amused myself by repeating a 
part of his soliloquies. Such, for example, as 

" How weary, flat, stale, and unprofitable 
Seem to me all the uses of this world! " 

Rachel, who dwelt underneath, marvelled greatly at the noise. 
- Her penetration made her immediately conclude, that I was bu- 



IN AMERICA. 



67 



sied in praying; and in the morning my character was establish- 
ed for religion. " Ah ! " said the old woman to her gaping au- 
ditors; " they may talk of this parson, or that parson, or the 
other parson, but our new coolmossa beats them all by a heap. 
Why 'tis as true as the mill is now going round, that he walks 
up and down, and prays the whole night long t " 

Rachel, without carrying about her the mockery of woe, mourn- 
ed very sensibly her husband. Let my page record the words of 
her affliction. 

" I was reared at Port Tobacco. A heap of likely young fel- 
lows courted me, but 1 refused them all for the head coachman 
of counsellor Carter. He was a good husband ; he made me the 
mother of eleven children. Woe to Rachel when he died. Oh! 
how I clap my hands and cry! but he's gone to the great Jeho- 
vah. 1 shall never forget it; 'twas at the pulling of corn-time. 
The poor creature was a little out of his head. He asked me if 
the corn was in tassel. In tassel, says I ! God help you, you had 
some yesterday for dinner. But he changed the discourse, and 
he talked of the hymn-book, and parson Wems, and Powheek 
church. It was as good as any sarment ! Dear sweet honey ! He 
was a friend to the gospel; he loved the Church of England, and 
nobody can say they ever saw him go to the Quaker- meeting. 
Alack! Alack! My poor husband died the next morning; I knew 
his time was come; the whip-poor-will cried all night by the 
house, and I could not drive him away. God help us! Die 
come in every part of the world ; Virginia, Maryland : black man ! 
white man! all one day or another get their mouth full of yellow 
clay!" 

Occoquan scarcely supplied more literature than Ovid's place 
of banishment on the black sea. But at Clearmount, near Fau- 
qier court-house, lived a French gentleman of the name of Ge- 
rardine, whose reputation for the belles lettres, induced me to 
write to him from my solitude. 1 chose the French language for 
the vehicle of my thoughts, and enclosed in the letter the little 
book of poems I had published at New-York. The answer of 
Mr. Gerardine discovers an elegant mind. 
" Monsieur, 

" Dans cette solitude oules muses se font si rarement entendre, 
vous conceverez aisement que l'envoi de vos jobs poemes a du 
exciter a la fois la surprize et le plaisir. Je compare votre pre- 
sent inattendu a un joli parterre dans un desert inculte et sau- 
vage, dont l'email se seroit offert continuellement a ma vue. 

" Continuez, Monsieur, a caresser les muses avec Horace et 
Anacreon; le terns reprendra ses alles, vos heures en couleront 



68 



TRAVELS, &C. 



plus doucement, et vous ajouterez de nouvelles fleurs 6. la guir- 
lande poetique dont vous etes deja couronnee. Ovide chantoit 
encore sur les bords lontaines ou la tyrannie d'Auguste V avoit 
enchainee, et vous avez celebre Coosohatchie. 

" Je me suis fait un devoir de repondre a votre lettre obligeante 
dans une langue que vous ecrivez si bien, et que sans 1' envoi de 
ce que vous appellez trop modestement vos bagatelles, je vous 
eusse assurement pris pour un de mes compatriotes. 

" J' ai F honneur d' etie, Monsieur, 
" Votre tres obeissant, tres humble Serviteur, 

" C. Gerardine." 
It was now I felt the bliss of having an enlightened friend to 
whom I could pour out my soul on paper, and enjoy the inter- 
course of spirit without the mediation of an earthly frame. My 
friendship with Mr. George was still unimpaired, and I consider 
it no small felicity that I have been able to preserve so many of 
his letters amidst the casualties to which the life of a wanderer is 
subject. The gloom of my solitude at Occoquan, was cheered by 
the sincerity of his friendship. 

u An epistle from Ovid among the Getse to his friend at Rome, 
could not have imparted half the delight that your letter from Oc- 
coquan has given the companion of your adversity at New York. 
I had long expected a missive from e the city in the woods */ and 
could only ascribe your silence to the distraction of business in 
your new office of secretary's secretary; when suddenly is 
brought me a letter, dated at a place, which, however acute my 
researches into the geography of America, I never heard men- 
tioned before. I thank you for the ode you did me the favour to 
enclose, it is an happy imitation of Cunningham's manner; but 
the images are more pleasing, from having the grace of novelty 
to recommend them. Nor should I neglect to observe how much 
you have shewn your skill in making the word Occoquan the 
burden of your exordial and concluding stanzas; a practice never 
to be dispensed with in local poetry, as, without it, the poem 
would have no particular application, were the title to be lost. 

(e Occoquan, from your description of it, must be a delightful 
spot, and in prophetic language I would declare, that your abode 
on the banks of that river will make the stream classical in the 
annals of literary history. 

" Let us continue, without failure, to wrrte to each other. It 
will give life to our friendship, and soften the rigours of existence. 
Whatever we write, must partake much of the spirit of the places 
in which we live; but sentiments may arise from solitary reflec- 

* Washington. 



IN AMERICA. 



69 



tion, which the multitudinous (a word you taught me) uproar of 
a city would rather suppress than excite." 

1 They who delight in walking, must, during the summer in 
Virginia, embrace the night. The fierceness of the sun would 
suspend the steps of the hardiest traveller; but amidst the fresh- 
ness of the night, he breathes only odours in journeying through 
the woods. 

No walk could be more delightful than that from Occoquan to 
Colchester, when the moon was above the mountains. You tra- 
verse the bank of a placid stream over which impend rocks, in 
some places bare, but more frequently covered with an odorifer- 
ous plant that regales the traveller with its fragrance. 

So serpentine is the course of the river, that the mountains, 
which rise from its bank, may be said to form an amphitheatre; 
and nature seems to have designed the spot for the haunt only of 
fairies: for here grow flowers of purple dye, and here the snake 
throws her enamelled skin. But into what regions, however ap- 
parently inaccessible, has not adventurous man penetrated ? The 
awful repose of the night is disturbed by the clack of two huge 
mills, which drown the song and echoes of the mocking-bird, 
who nightly tells his sorrows to the listening moon. 

After clambering over mountains almost inaccessible to human 
toil, you come to the junction of the Occoquan with the noble 
river of the Potomac. Having slept one night at a house on its 
banks, I rose with the sun, and journeyed leisurely to the mills, 
catching refreshment from a light air that stirred the leaves of 
the trees. The morning was beautiful, and my walk produced a 
little ode, which will serve as a counterpart to that 1 have already 
inserted. 

MORNING AT OCCOQUAN. — AN ODE. 

In the barn the cock proclaims 
That the East is streak'd with gold ; 
Strutting round the feather'd dames, 
Who the light with joy behold. 

Sweet! Oh! sweet the breath of morn \ 
Sweet the mocking-songster's strain; 
Where the waving stalks of corn 
Bend beneath the ripen'd grain. 

Lo! the martins now forsake, 
For awhile their tender brood; 
And the swallow skims the lake, 
Each in search of winged food. 



70 



TRAVELS, &C. 



See the cottage chimneys smoke, 
See the distant turrets gleam' 
Lo ! the farmer to the yoke, 
Pairs his meek submissive team. 

Here no negro tills the ground, 
Trembling, weeping, woeful- wan; 
Liberty is ever found, 
On the banks of Occoquan ! 

On the north bank of the Occoquan is a pile of stones, which- 
indicates that an Indian warrior is interred underneath. The 
Indians from the back settlements, in travelling to the northward, 
never fail to leave the main road, and visit the grave of their de- 
parted hero. If a stone be thrown down, they religiously restore 
it to the pile; and, sitting round the rude monument, they me- 
ditate profoundly ; catching, perhaps, a local emotion from the 
place. 

A party of Indians, while I was at Occoquan, turned from the 
common road into the woods, to visit this grave on the bank of 
the river. 

The party was composed of an elderly chief, twelve young war 
captains, and a couple of squaws. Of the women, the youngest 
was an interesting girl of seventeen ; remarkably well shaped, and 
possessed of a profusion of hair, which in colour was raven black. 
She appeared such another object as the mind images Pocahontas 
to have been. The people of Occoquan, with more curiosity than 
breeding, assembled round the party; but they appeared to be 
wholly indifferent to their gaze; the men amused themselves by 
chopping the ground with their tomahawks, and the women were 
busied in making a garment for the chief. 

Among the whites was a young man of gigantic stature; he 
was, perhaps, a head taller than any of the rest of the company. 
The old Indian could not but remark the lofty stature of the man ; 
he seemed to eye him involuntarily; and, at length, rising from 
the ground, he went up to the giant stranger, and shook him by 
the hand. This raised a loud laugh from all the lookers-on; but 
the Indians still maintained an inflexible gravity. 

When I saw the squaws a second time, they were just come 
from their toilet. Woman throughout the world delights ever in 
finery; the great art is to suit the < olours to the complexion. 

The youngest girl would have attracted notice in any circle 
of Europe. She had fastened to her long dark hair a profusion of 
ribbons, which the bounty of the people of Occoquan had heaped 
upon her; and, the tresses of this Indian beauty, which before 



IN AMERICA. 



71 



had been confined round her head, now rioted luxuriantly down 
her shoulders and back. The adjustment of her dress one would 
have thought she had learned from some English female of fa- 
shion ; for she had left it so open before, that the most inatten- 
tive eye could not but discover the rise and fall of a bosom just 
beginning to fill. 

The covering of this young woman's feet rivetted the eye 6F\ 
the stranger with its novelty and splendour. Nothing could be 
more delicate than her mocassins. They were each of them 
formed of a single piece of leather, having the seams ornamented 
with beads and porcupine quills; while a string of scarlet ribbon 
confined the mocassin round the instep, and made every other 
part of it sit close to the foot. The mocassin was of a bright 
yellow, and made from the skin of a deer, which had been killed 
by the arrow of one of the Indian youths. 

About ei^'ht miles from the Occoquan mills is a house of wor- 
ship, called Powheek church ; a name it derives from a run* that 
flows near its walls. Hither I rode on Sundays and joined the 
congregation of parson Wems, a minister of the episcopal per- 
suasion, who was cheerful in his mien, that he might win men to 
religion. 

A Virginian church-yard on a Sunday, resembles rather a race 
ground than a sepulchral ground ; the ladies come to it in carri- 
ages, and the men, after dismounting from their horses, make 
them fast to the trees. But the steeples to the Virginian churches 
were designed not for utility, but ornament; for the bell is al- 
ways suspended to a tree a few yards from the church. It is also 
observable, that the gate to the church-yard is ever carefully J 
locked by the sexton, who retires last; so that had Hervey and ( 
Gray been born in America, the preacher of peace could not have \ 
indulged in his meditations among the tombs; nor the poet pro- \ 
duced the elegy that has secured him immortality. 

Wonder and ignorance are ever reciprocal. I was confounded 
on first entering the church-yard at Powheek to hear 

" Steed threaten steed with high and boastful neigh." 

Nor was I less stunned with the rattling of carriage-wheels, the 
cracking of whips, and the vociferations of the gentlemen co the 
negroes who accompanied them. But the discourse of parson 
Wems calmed every perturbation ; for he preached the great doc- 
trines of salvation, as one who had experienced their power. It 
was easy to discover that he felt what he said; and indeed so 
uniform was his piety, that he might have applied fcoJbumseli" the 

* A Run is the American lor a rivulet. 



72 



TRAVELS, &C. 



* words of the prophet: " My mouth shall be telling of the right- 
? eousness and salvation of Christ all the day long ; for I know no 
. end thereof." 

Of the congregation at Powheek church, about one half was 
composed of white people, and the other of negroes. Among 
many of the negroes were to be discovered the most satisfying 
evidences of sincere piety; an artless simplicity; and an earnest 
endeavour to know and to do the will of God. After church I made 
! my salutations to parson Wems, and having turned the discourse 
; to divine worship, 1 asked him his opinion of the piety of the 
/ blacks. " Sir," said he, ff no people in this country prize the 
V- sabbath more seriously than the trampled-upon negroes. They 
/ are swift to hear; they seem to hear as for their lives. They are 
wakeful, serious, reverent, and attentive; and gladly embrace op- 
7 portunities of hearing the Scriptures. 

^ I had been three months at Occoquan, when I so often caught 
myself stretching, yawning, and exhibiting other symptoms of 
ennui, in my chair, that I began to be of opinion it was time to 
change my residence. My condition was growing irksome. 
There was no light airy vision of a female disciple with expres- 
sive dark eyes to consider my instructions oracular; but 1 was 
surrounded by a throng of oafs, who read their lessons with the 
same tone that Punch makes when he squeaks through a comb. 

I therefore resigned my place to an old drunken Irishman of 
the name of Burbridge, who was travelling the country on foot 
in search of an academy; and whom friend Ellicott made no 
scruple to engage, though, when the fellow addressed him, he 
was so drunk that he could with difficulty stand, on his legs. 

I remonstrated with friend Ellicott on the impropriety of em- 
ploying a sot to educate his children. " Friend," said he, " of 
all the school-masters I ever employed, none taught my children 
to write so ^ood a hand as a man who was constantly in a state 
thai: bordered on intoxication. They learned more of him in one 
month, than of any other in a quarter. I will make trial of Bur- 
bridge." 



IN AMERICA. 



73 



CHAP. IX. 

Return from Occoquan to New - York. Visit to Mr. George on 
Long Island. Meditations among the Tombs. I go to Balti- 
more. An exchange of Letters with the Vice-President. A 
Walk to Washington. Congress assembled. Debates. Po- 
liteness of the Vice-President. A Journey on Foot into Vir- 
ginia by the Great Falls of the Potomac. Get benighted. A 
hospitable Reception at a Log-house in the Woods. A Cast-a- 
way Sailor restored to the bosom of his Family. The Story of 
Jack Strangeways. 

IT was not without emotion that I quitted the banks of the Oc- 
coquan ; those banks on which I had passed so many tranquil 
hours in study and meditation. I was about to exchange the 
quiet of solitude for the tumult of the world; and was posting I 
knew not whither, without any object to my journeying. 

I pass over the common occurrences of the road to Washing- 
ton; the contributions levied on my purse by the landlords of 
Alexandria, and those of the imperial city 5 but at Baltimore an 
accident happened, w T hich I have still, under every combination 
of circumstance, in my memory's eye. 

I had left Peck's tavern in the stage-coach at a very early hour 
of the morning, when before we had proceeded half way down 
Market-street, one of the fore-wheels came off. The driver, on 
whose presence of mind the safety of the passengers depended, 
deserted his post in the moment of danger, and leaped from his 
seat. The horses being without any check, accelerated their 
pace, and I can only compare their.speed to the rapidity of light- 
ning. This was an awful moment. I expected every moment 
to be dashed in pieces; and determined to make one effort for 
my life, I leaped from the carriage into the street; an example 
that was soon followed by two Other passengers. In my eager- 
ness to clear the wheels, I leaped further than was necessary, and 
received a bruise in my forehead: but one of the other passen- 
gers was mangled by the flints in the road a 

On looking up I could perceive nothing but a flame before me, 
produced by the horses whose shoes struck fire as they flew; I 
followed the carriage with the third passenger, who had escaped 
unhurt, solicitous to know the fate of a sailor and a boy whom 
we had left in the coach. We overtook it at Chinquopin-hill, 
where the horses in their ascent had slackened their pace; and 

L 



74 



TRAVELS, &C 



found the sailor and the boy holding the panting cattle by the 
reins. I congratulated them on their escape, but when I asked 
the sailor, Why he had not jumped from the carriage? " Avast 
there/' said the tar, " more people are lost by taking to the 
boat, than sticking by the wreck; 1 always stick to the wreck!" 

A fresh coach and horses conveyed us to Chester, where I sup- 
ped with Monsieur Pichon, ambassador from France to America; 
and the next morning arrived at Philadelphia to breakfast. 

I sojourned a week at Philadelphia, collecting what money was 
due to me for the sale of my novel. 

From Philadelphia I travelled to New- York, partly by water, 
and partly by land. In the passage-boat to Burlington was a 
sweet girl of seventeen, whose voice was music; and who ob- 
served that the Pennsylvania shore of the Delaware, was much 
more pleasant than the Jersey side. 

We got to Burlington a little before the going down of the sun. 
It is built on the Delaware. A fellow-passenger was going to 
Canada, and was accompanied on the road with two waggons 
loaded with bale goods. 

From Amboy, which terminated our land travelling, we em- 
barked for New York, where 1 found a kind reception at the 
house of Major Howe. The next day I hastened on the wings 
of friendship to Mr. George, who was still employed on Long 
Island in his sublime academy. 

I found him wal ving and meditating near the Dutch church. 
He received me with transports. We repaired to his house, 
where I recounted to him my adventures; but he was impatient 
of my recital, and eagerly changed the subject to Homer, whose 
Iliad he made his manual. Nor did he forget to inquire if I had 
multiplied my wealth by school-keeping at Occoquan ; rightly re- 
flecting, that the man who wants money, wants every thing. 

My friend did not hear a word that 1 answered. He sat stu- 
dious and abstracted. You have approved, said he, my elegy 
over the grave of a stranger in the woods of Owendaw. I have 
made an epitaph on a similar subject. 

" Like a tree in a valley unknown, 

Tn a region of strangers I fell; 
No bosom my fate to bemoan, 

No friend my sad story to tell." 

I did not fail to visit my old friends on Long Island. Parson 
Vandyke was afflicted with the jaundice, but his wife was still as 
notable and narrative as ever. Farmer Titus had lost none of 
his accustomed hospitality; nor was farmer Moore less kind to 
the stranger within his gates. Mr. Remsen continued to regale 



IN AMERICA. 



75 



his guests with Madeira, and his sons were increasing their ideas 
under the tuition of my literary friend. Nor were the daughters 
of these worthy people less lovely, or less amiable. Joy be to 
Newtown; joy to its rosy damsels; and may heaven preserve 
their charms from decay ! 

I remained a week on Long Island, enjoying a renovation of 
intellectual felicity with Mr. George, when impatient of being 
without any determined pursuit, I again departed for the south- 
ward. It was Sept. 21, 1801; a day I shall ever remember in 
the annals of my lite, as it was a day of separation from a more 
than fraternal friend, whom I have never since seen. 

I embarked in the passage-boat for Am boy, from whence I 
travelled in the stage-coach to Burlington, with a sea-faring man, 
and an Indian trader. 

Resuming our journey, a few miles brought us to Penhausen- 
creek, remarkable for its circular form, and transparent "stream; 
and a little beyond it we stopped at a public-house, where a very 
pretty lively young woman was rocking her babe to sleep. Our 
journey was now soon terminated, for in another hour we reached 
the Jersey bank of the Delaware, and were conducted in a large 
boat across the river to Philadelphia, where I separated without 
regret from my ruffian companions. I was received into the house 
of Madame de Florian, in whose company I wanted no domestic 
entertainment. 

The name of Madame de Florian announces her to be a French 
woman. She lived in North third-street, with her two daugh- 
ters, of whom one was between seventeen and eighteen, the 
other, three years younger, and a son of five. My introduction 
to this family was curious. 

At Fouquet's gardens, rambling one afternoon in the shade, 
puffing volcanoes of smoke from my segar, and indulging the 
most splendid reveries ; 1 suddenly came upon Madame de Flo- 
rian and her two daughters, who were drinking peaceably their 
coffee in one of the alcoves, while the little boy was fondling a 
lap-dog on the grass. 

The spectacle of this interesting groupe suspended my steps, 
which being observed by the child, the little rogue danced to- 
wards me, and insisted upon having my segar. 

The mother and sisters rebuked the child, but I instantly de- 
livered my segar to him, and bowing, was about to pursue my 
ramble round the gardens, when Madame de Florian, with that 
grace of manner so peculiar to a French woman, accosted me 
with " Peut etre, Monsieur nous fera l'honeur de prendre une 
tasse de caffer " 



76 TRAVELS, &C. 

I bowed my acquiescence, and seated myself next the eldest 
daughter, who welcomed my approach with a smile of enchant- 
ment. And now all that I had read of a Mahometan paradise 
rushed into my mind. The garden of Monsieur Fouquet was 
the blissful region, and Mademoiselle de Florian the houri. 

It is to Mademoiselle de Florian and a few other of her coun- 
trywomen, that the young ladies of Philadelphia owe their pre- 
sent graceful mien. The revolution in France produced a revo- 
lution in the walk of the Philadelphia damsels. Formerly the 
American ladies did not sacrifice to elegance in their walk; or, 
more properly speaking, they were without a model to form 
themselves upon. But when the revolution drove so many of 
the Gallic damsels to the banks of the Delaware, the American 
girls blushed at their own awkwardness ; and each strove to copy 
that swimming air, that nonchalance, that ease and apparent 
unconsciousness of being observed, which characterized the 
French young ladies as they passed through the streets. Men 
and women ran to their windows and involuntarily exclaimed— 
Look at that girl ! How beautifully she walks ! An American 
girl commonly throws me into a fit of profound thought, a French 
girl, on the contrary, banishes all abstraction from my thoughts. 

I accompanied Madame de Florian and her family home ; nor 
did I discover without secret rapture, that this lady took board- 
ers. She confined her number to two ; there was nobody now 
in the house but one old gentleman, for a young officer who had 
lately occupied unt chambre garnie, was gone to Saint Domingo. 
There was consequently space left for another, but how to get 
possession of this enviable spot without an introduction was the 
rub. At length, the present lodger made his appearance in the 

shape of Monsieur Lartigue, whom I had accompanied once 

from Philadelphia to Charleston in the packet. 

I desired Mons. Lartigue to introduce me to Madame de Flo- 
rian and her daughters; their countenances brightened, my pro- 
posal of becoming a lodger was accepted with, u You do us^ 
honour!" and when the porter brought my trunks, I heard . 
Adelaide direct him what room to carry them into, with a kind 
of Saint-Preuxish emotion. 

Month of happiness that I passed under the same roof with 
Adelaide de Florian! Happiness never to return beneath the 
cloudy sky that now frowns on me as I look towards it. 

At the Indian Queen in Fifth street, (every sign in the United 
States, is either an Indian queen, or a spread eagle), I sometimes 
lounged away an hour with some young men from Charleston, 
" Where do you board/'' they all asked me, — With a French 



IN AMERICA. 



77 



lady " Some Creole, I suppose Why not take your quarters 

up here? I hate French customs. They never drink tea unless 
they are sick. ,, 

And what were the customs of these young gentlemen who 
plumed themselves upon their knowledge of mankind, and their 
travelled air? When not engaged with eating, they were sitting 
in the street before the door of the Indian queen, drinking punch 
cooled with ice, and obscured in volumes of tobacco-smoke. It 
is true, their discourse did not turn on bullocks. But they were 
either laughing over their nocturnal adventures in Mulatto-alley, 
at Charleston; or recommending to each other the different bro- 
thels at Philadelphia. Nor was the stream of their conversation 
ever diverted, unless some young lady (who, finding the pave- 
ment blockaded by their chairs, was compelled to walk in the 
carriage-road), called forth the exclamation of " That's a fine 
girl ! So is that coming up the street now. There are no snakes 
if Philadelphia does not beat Charleston hollow ! See there again, 
at the tailor's window. Harry ! I'll go over and get measured 
for a coat to-morrow." 

Not being able to obtain any employment at Philadelphia, I 
thought it best to embark for Baltimore, and i took my passage 
in the Newcastle packet. The wind was fair, the sky serene, the 
water smooth, and we passed Chester and Wilmington with great 
rapidity. 

A good dinner on board the packet, and the conversation of a 
motley groupe, enlivened my spirits; and I provoked the laugh- 
ter of the master of a ship lying at Newcastle, whose fore- top 
sail was loose, and whose destination was London. How my 
heart danced at the sound of that name! How my fancy conjured 
up the Thames, and the spires of the city to my view ! How de- 
lectably did I behold myself seated in the bosom of my friends, 
and how appalled was I when these illusions vanished, aud I per- 
ceived before me the shores of Pennsylvania and New- Jersey! 

We landed at Newcastle, and were bounded in two coaches to 
French-town, which is a journey of sixteen miles. We stopped 
to bait our cattle at Glasgow, and at French-town found a surly 
landlord, and sorry accommodations, Our number was sixteen; 
and for sixteen passengers there were only six beds; hence the 
large beds lodged three, and the small beds two passengers. For 
my part, there being a good fire, I proposed to sit up all night 
and make an Indian file with our feet to the fender; but sleep 
overcame me, and I retired to bed. It is not unworthy of re- 
mark, that the landlord would not suffer cards to be played in 
his house; and that the negro-girl, who waited at supper, wear- 



78 



TRAVELS, &C. 



ing a man's hat ; a Quaker in company aspirecTto be witty by 
calling her Caesar. 

The following morning we all embarked again for Baltimore; 
and on the passage an American diverted the company by pro- 
ducing a favourite cat that he had taken from the landlord, (who 
had refused him a pack of cards) and making the poor animal 
eat a yard or more of tobacco. His method was ingenious. He 
placed the cat over a chair, and confining forcibly her feet, un- 
twisted a roll of tobacco ; the cat in the agony of pain snapped 
at any thing that was offered her, and the mountebank traveller 
ministered his tobacco. 

We dined again on the water. Among the passengers was a 
pretty, modest, blushing maiden of fifteen, whose manners were 
not inelegant; but it is somewhat curious that whenever she 
wanted the salt, or mustard, she begged some one to shove it 
to her. 

Pool's Island is half-way to Baltimore, which we passed about 
noon: but in the evening we got round Fell's Point, and at eight 
secured our vessel at Bowly's wharf; having Federal-hill on our 
opposite side. 

The true use of speech, is not to express our wants, but to 
eonceal them ; and in conformity with this maxim, I kept it a 
profound secret on my landing at Baltimore, that I had very little 
money left in my pocket. I accompanied with affected gaiety a 
young fellow to the city of Strasburgh, who told me he always 
lodged there, and extolled the house for its convenience, and the 
landlord for his civility. 

Mr. Wyant received us with a smile of welcome, and supper 
being ready, ushered us into a room, where twenty guests were 
sitting at table, who appeared to be mutes; for no man uttered a 
syllable, but each seemed by his looks to have just come out from 
the cave of Trophonius. 

I had advertised in the Baltimore paper for the place of do- 
mestic tutor, and one morning, while I was standing before the 
door of the City of Strasburgh, the bar-keeper brought me a note 
very carefully sealed. I eagerly took it from his hand impressed 
with an idea that it was sent me by some opulent merchant who 
wanted an instructor for his children ; when on opening the note, 
it produced what Rabelais calls the most gloomy of all moments, 
the payment of a landlord's reckoning. 

" Sir, According to the custom of the house, Air. Wyant has 

requested me to send in your bill. To eight days board, at 

9s. Ad 31. 14s. Sd. 

" I am, for Mr. Wyant, John Kellen." 



IN AMERICA. 79 

I had been informed that Mr. Burr was at the Federal city, 
forty-three miles from Baltimore. I wrote to him by the post, 
and the next mail brought me an answer. Mr. Burr required 
of me an estimate of the expenses of my late travels, which he 
proposed immediately to reimburse. 

I retired to my room, and computed my unavoidable expenses 
on the road, from the day I crossed the Hudson, till I descended 
the treasury stairs at the imperial city. The answer of the vice- 
president will show, that he did not think himself overcharged. 

Dear Sir, — You men of letters are the worst calculators in the 
world. I am persuaded 1 only discharge a just debt, when I en- 
close double your amount. 

Accept the assurances of my regard, 

Aaron Burr. 

At this letter my pride took alarm. It produced from me an 
answer, and a restitution of half the bills. 

Being proffered a situation in a part of Virginia I had not visit- 
ed, and having it in my power to journey at my leisure by the 
friendship of the vice-president, I departed without regret from 
Baltimore, on foot and alone. 

It was the latter part of March when I left the once nourishing 
town of Baltimore, and again directed my steps towards the im- 
perial city. 

I arrived at Elk-Ridge landing, where I supped at a genteel 
tavern with the hostess and her sister, who are remarkable for the 
elegance of their manners. I found the u Old Manor-house" of 
Charlotte Smith lying on the table, of which the concluding part 
seemed to have been well read. 

The next day 1 resumed my walk; refreshing myself at Spur- 
rier's, dining at Dent's, and sleeping at Drummond's, three 
public-houses on the road which the traveller passes in succession. 

The next morning proceeding forward, I reached Bladensburgh 
before the going down of the sun; and at night-fall to my great 
satisfaction I entered the imperial city. 

Congress was assembled at Washington, and I was constant in 
my attendance on the Senate and the House of Representatives. 
The senate chamber is by far the most superb room in the capitol, 
but the house of representatives is a detached and temporary 
building. Yet, 1 loved best to visit the house of representatives; 
there seemed to be so much energy and freedom of debate. It is 
unknown I presume to few of my readers that the Vice-president 
of the United States is President of the senate. Mr. Burr was 
presiding in the chair, and no man knew better the routine of the 
house, or how to acquit himself with more dignity than he. 



SO TRAVELS, &C. 

I watched an opportunity to make the vice-president my salu- 
tations as he came out of the Capitol. I remembered the advice 
which old Polonius gave his son when he was about to travel, and 
I was then travelling myself. 

" The friends thou hast, and their adoption trv'd, 
Grapple theru to thj soul with hooks of steel." 

The vice-president demonstrated no little pleasure to see me, 
and his chariot being at the steps of the Capitol, he took me home 
witk him to dine. 1 forget how many members of congress were 
present at the dinner; but, though republicans, I did not think 
they had all an equal voice, for some spoke much louder than 
others. 

The most eloquent in debate was Mr. Randolph. He spoke 
full an hour for the repeal of the tax on domestic distilled liquors ; 
that is, whiskey, and peach and apple brandy. At the conclusion 

of the debate the speaker very solemnly exclaimed " They who 

are for the repeal are to say aye ! and they who are against it are 
to say no." The affirmative monosyllable immediately resound- 
ed from every quarter of the building. Aye! Aye! Aye! followed 
in rapid succession ; upon which the speaker with much gravity 
proclaimed, " The ayes have it ! The bill has passed ! " 

Having amused myself a few days at the imperial city, I rose 
with the sun, and pursued my journey along the banks of the Po- 
tomac. About nine in the morning I reached the bridge at the 
Little Falls. 

Near the bridge at the Little Falls my journey was suspended 
by the rain, and I found a reception in the tavern of Mr. Slimner, 
a German, who at the age of threescore was smitten by a young 
English woman, whom he had taken for his wife, and who had 
brought him a child. 

The rain not remitting its violence, I was obliged to pass the 
night under the roof of this fond couple, whom I, however, left 
at an early hour the next morning to prosecute my journey; pur- 
posing to take the more circuitous road of the Great Falls of the 
Potomac. 

About noon I reached the cross roads, and taking to the right, 
I could every minute hear more distinctly the roar of the Great 
Falls. At length I came to a spacious stream called " Difficult 
Run ; " an appellation derived from the difficulty in crossing it. 
But no place could be more romantic. 

I was in suspense whether to ford this run, or wait for a guide 
on its bank, when 1 descried two boys on the opposite shore who 
obeyed my call with alacrity; leaping from rock to rock, till 
they reached the spot where I stood. With the assistance of a 



IN AMERICA. 8^ 

pole they conducted me to the opposite bank, where I learned 
that one of my young guides was called Basil Hurdle, and the 
other Jack Miller. 

;I beheld the course of a large river abruptly obstructed by 
rocks, over which it was breaking with a tremendous roar ; while 
the foam of the water seemed ascending to the clouds, and the 
shores that confined it to tremble at the convolution. I gazed 
for some time in silent awe at this war of elements, when having 
recovered from my admiration, I could not help exclaiming to 
the Great Maker of heaven and of earth, " Lord ! What is man 
that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man, that thou re- 
gardest him ! " 

A little below the Falls, on the bank of the Potomac, stand a 
r few scattered buildings, which form a kind of hamlet called 
Charlotteville. The first, settler in this savage wilderness was 
the lady of General Lee, from whose Christian name the place 
takes its appellation. 

At a house of entertainment kept by widow Myers, I was ac- 
commodated with a supper and a bed. This buxom widow was 
by persuasion a methodist, and possessed of considerable pro- 
perty. 

On leaving the Great Falls of the Potomac, I was followed by a 
dog, whose attendance I rather encouraged than repulsed. I was 
tired of travelling alone, and I wanted a companion. An Euro- 
pean who has confined his travels to his own country, can have 
but a very imperfect idea of the forest scenery of America I 
never remember to have felt a more perfect exemption from 
care than in my journey from the Potomac Falls. I rioted in 
health, and I walked forward ee oblitus meorum et obliviscendus 
ab illis." I embraced the universe as my country, and it was 
wholly indifferent to me where I terminated my pilgrimage; for 
whether I ended my days in the wilds of the Potomac, or the 
close of Salisbury, " the earth and its bands would have been 
about me for ever." 

I ate my dinner in a log-house on the road. It was kept by a 
small planter of the name of Homer. Such a tavern would have 
raised the thunder and lightning of anger in some of my brother- 
travellers. But in a country where every private-house is a tem- 
ple of hospitality, and open alike to travellers of every descrip- 
tion, ought it to excite surprise that so few good taverns are to 
be found. 

Leaving the hut of Mr. Homer, I walked vigorously forwards 
indulging the hope I should get to Frying-Pan before night. But 
before dusk, I found myself bewildered in the woods, whose so- 

M 



82 



TRAVELS, &C. 



litude was rendered more melancholy from the cry of the owl. 
I had given myself up for lost, and was taking a flint from my 
pocket to kindle a fire, and pass the night under a tree, when the 
sound of the axe chopping wood rejoiced my hearing. Not more 
delightful was sleep ever to the weary, or water to the thirsty, 
than the sound to my ear. 

Guided by the noise of the axe, I got to a tobacco plantation; 
but I had scarce leaped the fence when a couple of huge dogs as- 
sailed me, barking, advancing and retreating, all in a breath. 
Now, thought I, if these curs were to devour me, what an igno- 
minious death would terminate my pilgrimage on earth. Fear is 
not only an ignoble, but dangerous passion ; and had 1 turned and 
endeavoured to escape from these blood -hounds, it is a hundred 
to one but I had been seized in that part where honour is said to 
be lodged. 

I, therefore, stood my ground, and called lustily to the house. 
My cry was not unheard ; the door was opened, and a lad ad- 
vanced with a light, which he had fixed in a calabash. 
The way, my friend, if you please, to Frying-Pan. 
C( Frying-Pan ! 'Tis a difficult road, Sir, in the dark. You 
must keep along the worm-fence, (i. e. crooked), till you come 
to a barn. You must then take the path that leads into' the 
woods, till you come to the track of the wheel ; then cross right 
over into the next wood." 

My friend, will you favour me with a glass of water. This wag 
answered by a hearty invitation into the house. 

On entering the log-house, I found a man sitting with his wife 
and five children, before a blazing fire of wood. Hospitality is 
the prominent feature in the character of a Virginian ; and I had 
a presentiment that I was housed for the night. When I had 
drunk my water, which tasted the more delicious, from being 
administered to me by a fine girl of seventeen, I rose to depart; 
but the man of the house accosted me, saying, " Be content, I 
pray you, and tarry here all night; the day is grown to an end : 
to-morrow I will send my son to put you in the way." 

The children now considered me as one of the family, and, 
moving their chairs, made room for me to come within their 
circle. 

Supper (that is tea) was now got ready; nor was it without a 
grateful emotion that I beheld the mother of this worthy family 
unlock her Sunday cupboard, and hand her eldest daughter part 
©f a loaf of sugar to break for the repast. 

Wilmot, the eldest son, now departed. I discovered afterwards, 
that he was courting the daughter of Mr. Strangeways' neighbour, 



IN AMERICA, 



whom he never failed to visit after the labour of the day. It was 
plain he was a lover, by the care he took in adorning his person. 

After supper we again drew round the fire — I had for some 
time perceived an unusual blaze in the chimney ; but supposing 
it to come from an oven, I said not a word. At length the good 
woman exclaimed, The plague! there's our chimney on fire 
again. We must pull down the rubbish, or we shall get no peace. 

Mr. Strangeways now rose with great composure, and seizing 
a large staff, went out to the back of the chimney, where he 
raked away the rubbish; while Mary, catching up a gourd, filled 
it thrice with water, and helped to extinguish the conflagration. 

As the night advanced, I could not but meditate upon the 
place my worthy host designed for my repose. I formed a hun- 
dred conjectures, he surely would not cherish me in the bosom 
of his numerous family ? And yet I could perceive only one room 
in the house. 

There were three beds in the room. Of these I discovered that 
the back one belonged to the two eldest girls; for while Mr. 
Strangeways, his wife, and I were yawning in concert over the 
fire, I perceived Mary, from the corner of my eye, steaL softly to 
her nest, and slip in under the clothes; an example that was 
quickly followed by Eliza, who, with equal archness, crept in by 
her side. 

At length Mr. Strangeways asked me if I was willing to go to 
bed, and, upon my replying in the affirmative, he fetched a ladder 
from an out-house into the room, and having placed it against 
the wall, he ascended a few steps, and opened a trap-door in the 
rafters, which I had not perceived led to a cock-loft. 

Did you ever mount a ship's ladder, said Mr, Strangeways? 

I replied, that 1 had a thousand. 

Then, said he, be kind enough to follow me. 

I followed, without betraying the least emotion of surprise; 
none but a rustic would have uttered an exclamation at the no- 
velty of the stair-case. I found a decent bed in the room appro- 
priated to my reception ; and when Mr, Strangeways had opened 
and closed the shutter of the window; the worthy man bade me 
a good night, and left me to my repose. I soon fell asleep. 

I rose the next morning with the sun, and descended my lad- 
der. The family were all stirring. The father and sons were at 
the plough, the mother was getting ready breakfast, and the two 
girls were at their spinning-wheels. The sound of these instru- 
ments was not quite so harmonious as that of a piano ; but I 
know not whether a woodland nymph giving rapid motion to her 
spinning-wheel, be not a more captivating object than a haughty 



84 



TRAVELS, &C. 



town-dame running her fingers disdainfully over the keys of a 
harpsichord. 

The morning was ushered in with rain, which continued 
throughout the day. I therefore continued housed, and op- 
posed but feebly Mr. Strangeways' invitation to tarry another 
night under his roof. I passed the day in talking with Mary. 

We had breakfasted next morning, and the old man had gone- 
to cultivate his tobacco, when I rose to go. The mother and 
Mary were the only tenants of the log-house. I wish, said the 
worthy woman, that my son was here. The gentleman will 
never find his way out of the woods. My daughter, put on your 
bonnet, aud shew the gentleman the way to the main-road. Mary 
rose with alacrity, she slipped on her bonnet; and, having taken 
a parting look at the glass, conducted me through the plantation. 
1 gave the little wood-nymph my arm, and we walked forward 
together. The mocking-bird was singing; his song never ap- 
peared to me so sweet before. 

/ At length, after walking half a mile, we emerged from the 
/wood, and reached the track of the wheel. And now Mary, said 
I, farewell. And let my advice go with you. Confide not for 
7 ornament in the rings that hang to thy ears, but in the virtue 
that dwells in thy bosom. For when thou art deceived, though 
thou dottiest thyself in crimson, though thou deckest thee with 
the ornaments of gold, though thou rentestthy face with painting, 
in vain shalt thou be fair. 

After walking a mile and a half, I met a boy sauntering along, 
and whistling, probably, for want of thought. How far, my boy, 
said I, is it to Frying-Pan ? You be in the Pan now, replied the 
oaf. I be, be I, said I. Very well. 

Frying-Pan is composed of four log-huts and a meeting-house. 
It took its name from a curious circumstance. Some Indians 
having encamped on the run, missed their frying-pan in the 
morning, and hence the name was conferred on the place. 

I did not deign to stop at Frying-Pan, but prosecuted my walk 
to the next hamlet; where in the piazza of Mr. Thornton's ta- 
vern, I" found a party of gentlemen from the neighbouring plan- 
tations carousing over a bowl of toddy, and smoking segars. No 
people could exceed these men in politeness. On my ascending 
the steps to the piazza every countenance seemed to say, This 
man has a double claim to our attention; for he is a stranger in 
the place. A gentleman is in every country the same. 

My pilgrimage was now nearly at an end ; for Mr. Ball's plan- 
tation was only distant eight miles. 



IN AMERICA. 



85 



CHAP. X. 

Memoir of my Life in the Woods of Virginia. Reception at 
Pohoke. An old Field- School. A Fair Disciple. Evening 
Scene on a Plantation, Story of Dick the Negro, Sfc. fyc. *> 

THE rugged and dreary road from the last hamlet to Newmar- 
ket in Prince William county, is bordered by gloomy woods, 
where the natives of the State cultivate on their plantations 
Indian corn, wheat, tobacco, and rye. 

Having come to Bull-Run, I stopped at a kind of waggoner's 
tavern on its border, to inquire the way to the plantation. Old 
Flowers, the landlord, reeled out of his log-hut, but was too 
much intoxicated to make a coherent reply; so, giving my steed 
his head, I was all passive to his motions, till overtaking an old 
negro-man, I demanded the road to Mr. Ball's. The old negro 
was clad in rags, if rags can be called clothing; he was a squalid 
figure of sixty, and halted as he walked ; he was grunting some- 
what in the manner of an old hog at an approaching shower of 
rain; and he carried a hickory stick in his right hand, with which 
he was driving the cattle home from pasture. 

The conversation of the negro held me engaged till we got to 
the plantation ; I then gave him my horse, and walked through 
the garden to the house. 

Mr. Ball received me with undissembled accents of joy; he 
said he had long expected my coming, and was gratified at last, 
A nod to a mulatto boy placed refreshments on the side-board, 
and in a few minutes the family assembled to take a peep at the 
schoolmaster. 

The first impression made by Mr. Ball, decided that he was a 
gentleman; and I was not a little delighted with the suavity of 
his manners, and elegance of his conversation. 

When the children withdrew, I entered on the terms of my 
proposed engagement, and presented to him a letter which I had 
been honoured with from Mr. Jefferson. I knew my host to be 
a Virginian who favoured the administration, and thought a letter 
from the President would operate upon him like witchcraft. But 
I was unacquainted with my man. Mr. Ball was not to be biass- 
ed by the whistling of a name; he read my letter more from 
complaisance than any motive of curiosity; observed, that a 
man's conduct could alone decide his character; congratulated 
himself upon the acquisition of a man of letters in his family; 
and offered to engage me for a twelvemonth, at a salary of a hun- 



TRAVELS, &C 



dred guineas. I acknowledged the honour he did me, and en- 
gaged with him for a quarter of a year. 

The following day every farmer came from the neighbourhood 
to the house, who had any children to send to my academy, for 
such they did me the honour to term the log-hut in which I was 
, to teach. Each man brought his son or his daughter, and no 
price w 7 as too great for the services I was to render their chil- 
dren. 

I now opened what some called an academy*, and others an 
Old Field school; and, however it maybe thought that content 
was never felt within the walls of a seminary, I, for my part, ex- 
perienced an exemption from care, and was not such a fool as to 
measure the happiness of my condition by what others thought 
of it. 

I I was pleasurable to behold my pupils enter the school over 
which I presided; for they were not composed only of truant 
boys, but some of the fairest damsels in the country. Two sis- 
ters generally rode on one horse to the school-door, and 1 was 
not so great a pedagogue as to refuse them my assistance to dis- 
mount from their steeds. A running-footman of the negro-tribe, 
who followed with their food in a basket, took care of the beast; 
and after being saluted by the young ladies with the curtsies of 
the morning, I proceeded to instruct them, with gentle exhorta- 
tions to diligence of study. 

Of the boys 1 cannot speak in very encomiastic terms; but they 
were, perhaps like all other school-boys, that is, more disposed to 
play truant, than enlighten their minds. The most important 
knowledge to an American, after that of himself, is the geography 
of his country. I, therefore, put into the hands of my boys a 
proper book. 

Among my male students was a New Jersey gentleman of 
thirty, whose object was to be initiated in the language of Cicero 

* It is worth the while to. describe the academy I occupied on Mr. Ball's planta- 
tion. It had one room and a half. It stood on blocks about two feet and a half 
above the ground, where was free access to the hogs, the dogs, and the poultry. It 
had no ceiling; nor was the roof lathed or plastered; but covered with shingles. 
Hence, when it rained, like the nephew of old Elwes, 1 moved my bed (for I slept in 
my academy) to the most comfortable corner. It had one window, but no glass or 
shutter. In the night to remedy this, the mulatto wench who waited on me, contrived 
very ingeniously to place a square board against the window with one hand, and fix 
the rail of a broken down fence against it with the other. In the morning, when I 
returned from breakfasting in the " great house," (my scholars being collected), I 
gave the rail a forcible kick with my foot, and down tumbled the board with an awful 
roar. "Is not my window," said I to Virginia, " of a very curious construction?" 1 
u Indeed, indeed, Sir," replied my fair disciple, ** I think it is a mighty noisy one." 



IN AMERICA. 



37 



and Virgil. Such was the affectation or simplicity of this man, 
that he expressed his fears tfce English students would interrupt 
his acquirement of Latin. Not knowing whether to storm or 
laugh, I advised him to retire with his books into Maddison's 
cave. 

1 never saw slavery wear so contented an aspect as on Pohoke 
plantation. The work of the slaves was light, and punishment 
never inflicted. A negro, who had run away, being brought 
back by a person who recognized him, he was asked by Mr. Ball 
the reason of his elopement. Because, said the fellow, I was 
born to travel. This man I presume was a predestinarian. On 
the Sabbath the negroes were at liberty to visit their neighbours. 

Of my female students there was none equal in capacity to 
Virginia. The mind of this fair creature was susceptible of every 
culture ; but it had been neglected, and I opened to her worlds 
of sentiment and knowledge. 

Geography was one of our favourite studies. The greatest 
trifler can scarce inspect a map without learning something; but 
my lovely pupil always rose from it with a considerable accession 
of knowledge. Imparting such new ideas was no undelightful 
employment, and 1 often addressed my rose of May in an appro- 
priate ode. 

ODE TO VIRGINIA, LOOKING OVER A MAP. 

Powerful as the magic wand, 
Displaying far each distant land, 
Is that angel-hand to me, 
When it points each realm and sea, 

Plac'd in geographic mood, 
Smiling, shew the pictur'd flood, 
I . . Where along the Red Sea sea-coast, 

Waves o'erwhelm'd the Egyptian host. 

Again the imag'd scene survey. 
The rolling Hellespontic Sea; 
WLence the Persian from the shore, 
Proudly pass'd his millions o'er. 

See! that little isle afar 
Of Salamis renown'd in war; 
Swelling high the trump of fam« 
With glory and eternal shame. 

And behold to nearer view, 
Here thy own lov'd country too: 
Virginia! which produc'd to me, 
A pupil fair and bright like thee ' 



I frequently protracted the studies of the children till one, or 



TRAVELS, &C. 



half past one o'clock; a practice that did not fail to call forth the 
exclamations both of the white and the black people. Upon my 
word, Mr. Ball would say, this gentleman is diligent; and aunt 
Patty the negro cook would remark, " He good cool-mossa that ; 
he not like old Hodgkinson and old Harris, who let the boys out 
before twelve. He deserve good wages ! " 

My recreation after school in the evening was to sit and medi- 
tate before my door, in the open air, while the vapours of a 
friendly pipe administered to my philosophy. In silent gravity I 
listened to the negro calling to his steers returning from labour, 
or contemplated the family groupe on the grass-plat before the 
dwelling-house, of whom the father was tuning his violin, the 
mother and daughters at their needles, and the boys running and 
tumbling in harmless mirth upon the green. Before me was an 
immense forest of stately trees; the cat was sitting on the barn- 
door; the fire-fly was on the wing, and the whip-poor-will in 
lengthened cries was hailing the return of night. 

I was now, perhaps, called to supper, and enjoyed the society 
of Mr. Ball and his family till the hour of their repose, when f 
returned to my log-hut, and resumed ray pipe before the door. 

A skilful chymist will endeavour to extract good from every 
substance, and I declined not the conversation of a man because 
his face differed in colour from my own. Old Dick, the negro, 
whom I had met on the road, never failed to visit my cell in the 
evening, and the purpose of his visit was to obtain a dram of 
whiskey. Dick said that it comforted him, and I never withheld 
my comfort from him. 

As I considered old Dick a much greater philosopher than 
many of his white brethren who have written volumes on re- 
signation under misfortunes, but could never bear the tooth-ache 
patiently; I always put him upon talking about himself, and one 
evening when he came to see me, I desired he would relate to m& 
the story of his life. 

STORY OF DICK THE NEGRO. 

" I was born at a plantation on the Rappahannoc river. It 
was the pulling of corn time, when 'squire Musgrove was gover- 
nor of Virginia. 1 have no mixed blood in my veins; I am no 
half and half breed; no chesnut sorrel of a mulatto; but my fa- 
ther and mother both came over from Guinea. 

" When 1 was old enough to work, I was put to look after the 
horses. 'Squire Sutherland had a son who rode every fall to 
look at a plantation on James river, which was under the care of 
an overseer. Young master could not go without somebody on 



IN AMERICA. 



89 



another horse to carry his saddle-bags,, and I was made his 
groom. 

" This young chap, Sir, (here Dick winked his left eye), was 
a trimmer. The first thing he did on getting out of bed was to 
call for a julep and I honestly date my own love of whiskey 
from mixing and tasting my young master's juleps. But this 
was not all. He was always upon the scent after game, and 
mighty Jicious when he got among the negur wenches, He used 
to say, that a likely negur wench was fit to be a queen ; and I 
forget how many queens he had among the girls on the two 
plantations. 

" The young 'squire did not live long. He was for a short 
life and a merry one. He was killed by a drunken negur man^ 
who found him over ficious with his wife, The negur man was 
hanged alive upon a gibbet. It was the middle of summeri tire 
sun was full upon him ; the negur lolled out his tongue, his eyes 
seemed starting from their sockets, and for three long days his 
only cry was water ! water ! water ! 

" The old gentleman took on to grieve mightily at the death 
of his son; he wished that he had sent him to Britain for his 
education; but after- wit is of no use; and he followed his son to 
that place where master and man, planter and slave, must all at 
last lie down together. 

(c The plantation and negurs now fell to the lot of a second 
son, who had gone to Edinburgh to learn the trade of a doctor. 
He was not like 'squire Tommy, he seemed to be carved out of 
different wood. The first thing he did on his return from Bri- 
tain, was to free all the old negur people on the plantation, and 
settle each on a patch of land. He tended the sick himself, gave 
them medicine, healed their wounds, and encouraged every man, 
woman, and child, to go to a meeting-house, that every Sunday- 
was opened between our plantation and Fredericksburgh. Even- 
thing took a change. The young wenches, who, in master Tom- 
my's time, used to put on their drops, and their bracelets,, and 
ogle their eyes, now looked down like modest young women, and 
carried their gewgaws in their pockets till they got clear out of 
the woods. He encouraged matrimony on the plantation, by 
settling each couple in a log-house, on a wholesome patch of 
land; hired a schoolmaster to teach the children, and to every 
one that could say his letters, gave a Testament with cuts. This 
made me bold to marry, and I looked out sharp for a wife. I 
had before quenched my thirst at any dirty puddle; but a stream 

* A dram »f spirituous liquor that has mint steeped in it, taken by Yirginians of a 
Homing. 

N 



90 



TRAVELS, &C 



that I was to drink at constant I thought should be pure, and I 

made my court to a wholesome girl, who had never bored her 
ears, and went constantly to meeting. 

" She was daughter to old Solomon the carter, and by moon- 
light I used to play my banger under her window, and sing a 
Guinea love-song that my mother had taught me. But I found 
that there was another besides myself whose mouth watered after 
the fruit. Cuffey, one of the crop hands, came one night upon 
the same errand. I am but a little man, and CufFey was above 
my pitch; for he was six foot two inches high, with a chew of 
tobacco clapped above that. But I was not to be scared because 
he was a big man, and I was a little one; I carried a good heart, 
and a good heart is every thing in love. 

" CufFey, says I, what part of the play is you acting? Does 
you come after Sal? May be, says he, I does. Then, says 1, 
here's have at you boy; and I reckoned to fix him by getting the 
finger of one hand into his ear, and the knuckles of the other into 
his eye*. But the whore-son was too strong for me, and after 
knocking me down upon the grass, he began to stamp upon me, 
and ax me if I had yet got enough. But Dick was not to be 
scared; and getting his great toe into my mouth, I bit it off and 
swallowed it. Cuffey now let go his hold, and it was my turn to 
ax Cuffey if he had got enough. Cuffey told me he had, and I 
walked away to the quarter \. 

" My master the next day heard of my battle with Cuffey. He 
said that 1 ought to live among painters and wolves, and sold me 
to a Georgia man for two hundred dollars. My new master was 
the devil. He made me travel with him hand-cuffed to Savan- 
nah; where he disposed of me to a tavern-keeper for three hun- 
dred dollars. 

ce I was the only man-servant in the tavern, and I did the 
work of half a dozen. I went to bed at midnight, and was up an 
hour before sun. I looked after the horses, waited at table, and 
worked like a new negur. But I got plenty of spirits, and that I 
believe helped me. 

fC The war now broke out, and in one single year I changed 
masters a dozen times. But 1 knowed I had to work, and one 
master to me was just as good as another. When the war ended, 
I was slave to 'squire Fielding, at Annapolis, in Maryland. 1 was 
grown quite steady, and I married a house-servant, who brought 
me a child every year. I have altogether had three wives, and 
am the father of twelve children ; begot in lawful wedlock: but 
this you shall hear. 

* This is what is called gouging. t The place of abode for the negroes. 



IN AMERICA. 91 

*~ ! . 1 5 1 " ' . ' — 

" My wife dying of a flux, I was left to the management of 
my children ; but my master soon saved me that trouble, for di-* 
rectly they were strong enough to handle a hoe, he sold the boys 
to Mr. Randolph of Fairfax, and the girls to 'squire Barclay of 
Port Tobacco. It was a hard trial to part with my little ones, 
for I loved them like a father; bnt there was no help for it, and 
it was the case of thousands besides myself. 

" When a man has been used to a wife, he finds it mighty 
lonesome to be without one; so I married a young girl who lived 
house-servant to a tavern-keeper at Elk Ridge landing. It is a 
good twenty-five miles from Annapolis to the landing place ; but 
a negur never tire when he go to see his sweetheart, and after 
work on Saturday night, I would start for Elk Ridge, and get to 
my wife before the supper was put away. 

" I was not perfectly satisfied with my new wife; I had some, 
suspection that she gave her company, when I was away, to aj 
young mulatto fellow. Mif her children had not been right black 
and ugly like myself, 1 should have suspected her vartue long be-^ 
fore I had a real cause. It troubled me to be tricked by a young- 
girl, but I stripped her of all her clothing. Fine feathers make 
fine birds; and I laughed to think how she would look the next 
Sunday. 

" I now said to myself that it was right foolish for an old man 
to expect constancy from a young girl, and I wished that my first 
wife had not got her mouth full of yellow clay. 

" My master at Annapolis being made a bankrupt, there wat* 
an execution lodged against his negurs. I was sent to Alexander*, 
and knocked down at vendue to old 'squire Kegworth. I was 
put to work at the hoe, 1 was up an hour before sun, and work- 
ed naked till after dark. I had no food but homony, and for 
fifteen months, did not put a morsel of any meat in my mouth, 
but the flesh of a possum or a racoon that I killed in the woods. 
This was rather hard for an old man, but 1 knowed there was no 
help for it. 

" 'Squire Kegworth was a wicked one; he beat master Tom- 
my. He would talk of setting us free ; you are not, he would 
say, slaves for life, but only for ninety-nine years. The 'squire 
was never married; but an old negur woman kept house, who 
governed both him and the plantation. 

" Hard w T ork would not have hurt me, but I never could get 
any liquor. This was desperate, and my only comfort was the 
stump of an old pipe that belonged to my first wife. This was a 
poor comfort without a little drap of whiskey now and dan ; and 

* Alexandria. 



92 



TRAVELS, &C. 



I was laying a plan to run away, and travel through the wilder- 
ness of Kentucky, when the old 'squire died. 

sc I was now once more put up at vendue, and as good luck 
would have it, I was bid for by 'squire Ball. Nobody would bid 
against him, because my head was grey, my back covered with 
stripes, and I was lame of the left leg by the malice of an over- 
seer who stuck a pitch-fork into my ham. But 'squire Ball knew 
I was trusty; and though self-praise is no praise, he has not a 
negur on the plantation that wishes^him better than I; or a 
young man that would work for him with a more willing heart." 

Such is the history of the life and slavery of Dick the negro, as 
he delivered it to me word for word. It will, perhaps, exhibit 
a better picture of the condition of negroes in America, than any 
elaborate dissertation on the subject. But it aspires to more cre- 
dit than the mere gratification of curiosity. It will enable the 
reader to form a comparison of his own state with that of ano- 
ther, and teach him the unmanly grief of repining at the common 
casualties of life, when so many thousands of his fellow-creatures 
toil out with cheerfulness a wretched life under the imprecations 
and scourgings of an imperious task-master. 

Mr. Bali was son-in-law to counsellor Carter, of Baltimore, 
who had formerly resided in the woods of Virginia, and emanci- 
pated the whole of his negroes, except those whom he had given 
with the marriage-portion of his daughter. Of this he afterwards 
repented, and in a fit of religious enthusiasm, wrote a serious 
letter to Mr. Ball, exhorting him to free his negroes, or he would 
assuredly go to hell. Mr. Ball, whose property consisted in his 
slaves, and whose family was annually augmenting, entertained 
different notions; and with much brevity returned answer to the 
old gentleman's letter, " Sir, I will run the chance." 

Had I known my own happiness 1 should have remained in 
this situation, but I again became restless. I took a respectful 
leave of Mr. Ball, and once more seized my staff, and walked to 
Baltimore. It was a killing circumstance to separate from Vir- 
ginia; but who shall presume to contend against fate. 

I still, and shall ever, behold Virginia in my fancy's eye. i be- 
hold her fair form among the trees. I contemplate her holding 
her handkerchief to her eyes. I still hear a tender adieu ! faulter- 
ing on her lips; and the sob that choked her utterance still knocks 
against my heart. 

<e Phjllida amo ante alias; nam me discedere flevit." 



fN AMERICA. 



m 



CHAP. XL 

Voyage from Baltimore in Maryland, to Cowes in the 
Isle of Wight, 

i EMBARKED August 3, 1802, in the good ship Olive, Captain 
Norman, lying at Baltimore, for Cowes in the Isle of Wight. It 
was by the merest fortune that I now returned to England ; and 
that I did not travel four years and a half more in the United 
States of America, But Captain Norman politely accepted m 
draft for my passage across the Atlantic ; or more properly speak- 
ing, took my word for the payment of twenty guineas. 

Proceeding down the Chesapeak, we passed the Potomac, the 
Rappahannock, York, and James rivers, and shaped our course 
through the promontories of the bay. 

Having taken our departure from Cape Henry, we kept in a di- 
rection to catch the Gulph stream. It is of great importance in 
a navigation across the Atlantic, to be acquainted with the Florida 
current; for by keeping in it when bound eastward, the voyage is 
shortened ; and by avoiding it when returning to the westward 
is it equally facilitated. A thermometer would ascertain whether 
a vessel is in the gulph stream better than any other means that 
can be devised; for the water in the stream is always warmer 
than the air. By a comparison, therefore, with a thermometer 
between the temperature of the water and that of the air, it 
would be determined, beyond all doubt, whether a ship was in 
the Gulph. 

I was now upon the wide ocean again ; than whose unstable 
waters, there cannot be a more perfect emblem of the unsettled 
condition of human life. Trouble follows trouble, like wave roll- 
ing after wave. 

My spirit was not, however, much troubled during the voyage. 
Indeed, for the first week, the beautiful vision of Virginia lived 
unimpaired in my thoughts. I, therefore, suspect that my gaiety 
was at first somewhat forced. 

They on board the good ship Olive who were fond of fish, in? 
dulged the hope, that on the banks of Newfoundland they would 
only have to let down their hooks and lines into the sea, and pull 
up a multitude of fishes. They, however, toiled all night, and 
caught no fish. In fact, I believe they swore too much to catch 
any. 

A favourable gale wafted us over the banks ; a gale so fair that 



94 



TRAVELS, &C. 



we knew not on which side to carry our spanker-boom. Several 
of our ship's company were Englishmen, and these Englishmen 
had all of them mistresses at Cowes. This circumstance con- 
spired with the breeze, to carry us over the bank with the rapi- 
dity of lightning. For the damsels at Cowes, impatient of the 
coming of the Olive, had taken hold of a tow-rope which we had 
thrown to them for the purpose; and they were now pulling our 
ship towards Cowes hand over hand. 

Sept. 13, 1802. At an early hour of the morning we made the 
land. It was the Isles of Scilly. The seven southernmost of 
them were in sight. Every face brightened into joy but that of 
the steward — more persecutions! — in the night some malicious 
person or persons had thrown his boots overboard, and he pre- 
ferred his complaint to the chief-mate. " They have thrown my 

boots overboard, Mr. Llewellyn/' cried the steward. " So 

much the better/' replied the mate. " We shall now have a 
fair wind all the way up channel." 

The Scilly Islands are twenty-seven in number. They lie at 
about the distance of thirty miles from Cornwall, and are thought 
to have been once joined by an isthmus to the main land. Be- 
held at sea, they appear like old castles and churches, over which 
the waves are flying in perpetual succession. Of these islands 
the largest is St. Mary's. It is about nine miles in circumfer- 
ence. 

Thus I am now within 262 miles of home, for I count the jour- 
ney nothing from the Isle of Wight to Salisbury. I came upon 
deck in the night to see the motion of the vessel, and to com- 
mune with Virginia, and my own heart. The moon is gazing at 
her face in the water, our sails are reflected on the deep, and the 
repose of the night is disturbed only by the roar of the ocean, 
whose talking waves the sea-boy chides as he lolls over the bow. 
I recalled the past scenes of my life in America. But every other 
gave way to the calm of my log-house in the woods, the melody 
of the mocking-bird, and the beauty, innocence, and simplicity 
of Virginia. And now too I felt the advantage of having edu- 
cated myself. For what can smooth the flight of time more, 
whether journeying over land or traversing the ocean, than me- 
ditation upon past studies, and the recollection of moral truths ? 

While my fancy was thus on the wing, a tumultuous noise was 
heard in the wake of the ship, and I jumped aft with Mr. Adams 
to discover the cause. In the afternoon the ship's doctor (t. e. 
the cook) had baited his shark-hook with some pork, and thrown 
it overboard. A shark had now swallowed the pork-bait, and in 
swallowing the pork-bait, he unwittingly swallowed at the same. 



IN AMERICA. 



95 



time an enormous iron hook, and about seven links of an iron 
chain. 

The morning soon arrived, and the rosy blushes of Aurora, as- 
sociated in my mind that glowing suffusion which I had so often 
witnessed in the countenance of Virginia. The British shore was 
rising like a new creation from the water; the country clocks 
were tolling, and the cocks crowing on the coast. 

Sept. 14. We have had a decent run this day along the British 
coast, and it was no Undelightfnl employment to look through 
the glass at the towns, villages, and green fields, which project- 
ing into the water, seemed to court its translucent flood. Here 
and there the surf breaking partially on the shore, heightened the 
beauty of the scene. 

Having passed the Start, we hauled up for the Race of Portland, 
one of the most remarkable promontories on the coast. 

The passengers have been the whole of the , day upon deck, 
expressing their impatience to imprint the shore with their feet. 
Illusion all ! The shore will bring them no accession of happiness. 
If they could leave their cares and vexations behind them in the 
ship's hold, it would be something; but they will not have to go 
many miles on land to detect the fallaciousness of that hope 
which points to happiness by change of place. 

A seventy-four gun ship has been working down channel, in 
company with a frigate. Long may England smile in the sweet 
exultation of conscious safety, while she has ships ready to cruise 
and heroes to command them ! 

At night not being very remote from the island, we shortened 
sail and hove to, being in want of light. Let this circumstance ; 
impress on the minds of my readers the necessity of attending to <j 
the words of the Lord of Life: " Work while ye have light; the )S 
night cometh when no man can work ! " Soon will the night of n 
| darkness, the long night of death, overtake us all; when happy ( 
will be they who have not been unmindful of employing the lighty? ) 
while it remained, in the work of their master. 
v We made sail with the rising sun, and no pilot coming off, un- 
dertook to seek our port without one. The flood-tide had made. 
We did not know it was necessary to keep upon the shingles, and 
the girls treacherously letting go the tow-rope, the good ship 
Olive lost her way through the water, and every body expected 
f he would come with her broadside upon the needle-rock. Thus 
the good ship Olive was on the brink of losing her life by a 
needle ! 

And now, when we had escaped the disgrace of being discom- 



TRAVELS, &C. 



fited by a bare needle, a pilot came off. He took us into Cowes 
road, where we had nothing more to fear from needles or pins. 

We made the Olive fast by the nose ; hoisted out her boats ; 
squared our yards by the lifts and braces ; ran up our sixteen 
stripes and sixteen patches to the mizen-peak; swept the deck* 
down fore and aft; and then called all hands to splice the main- 
brace. 

Had I been an ambassador or a consul, I could not have left 
the good ship Olive with more eclat. The two mates manned 
the side for me, and the ship's company lying out upon the yards, 
gave me three hearty cheers. 

And thus I landed again in England after an absence of four 
years, eight months, and seven days; having travelled on foot 
/ because I could not afford a horse, through the States of New 
( York, New Jersey, Delaware, and Pennsylvania, Maryland, and 
s Virginia, South Carolina, and Georgia; under whose shifting 
1 skies I escaped the pestilence and famine; for which, and all thy 
ether mercies, make me truly thankful, O Lord, my God I 



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